


The Black Trench Coat

by spnsmile



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Healing, Angel Wings, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Black Castiel, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel is Protective of Dean Winchester, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dark Character, Dean Winchester Needs Castiel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, Gay Sex, Heavy Angst, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Dean Winchester, Kidnapping, Kissing, Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Pain, Power Play, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Dean Winchester, Protectiveness, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25975321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnsmile/pseuds/spnsmile
Summary: When Dean found out Castiel was working with Crowley to open Purgatory, he had no choice but to leave the angel in the ring of fire with nothing less than a broken heart. But instead of plotting against his friend, Dean takes a literal sense of fire vs fire. He decides to kill Castiel with love.Or that story where Dean convinces Castiel to look into their future to see if Castiel's plan against Raphael succeeds, only to find the world in chaos and an angel donning a black trenchcoat emerges to take Dean away.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 133
Collections: Supernatural Canon BigBang 2020





	The Black Trench Coat

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate season 6 of the "The Man Who Would be King" 6X22
> 
> One chapter of Dean trying to save Cas trying to save Dean from Cas... or that cycle ^^  
> Written for @spncanonbang2020! And my heart, glorious art! Thank you very much to Gio (sketching-fox) for providing the set of arts for this fic! It's seriously awesome! Check it out! Links are on the image!
> 
> Also to Lootbox for the awesome divider that just fits! Link on the image available ^^  
> Enjoy! Mind the tags!

[ ](https://sketching-fox.tumblr.com/post/626805058485551104/hi-everyone-here-are-my-artworks-done-for-the?fbclid=IwAR2ejGXEzJu_X5shrSWPxy4joiaLT2q_Z8A2PCd_llpBxU1Mem-YH2466lE)

Castiel hunched over his knees, immovable and undecided. Beneath his feet lay a thick blanket of white covering the lush green earth, pristine and pure.

Everything he is not.

In his empty hands materialized a stone tablet engraved with Edenic writings. Nothing of import that required the assistance of a prophet. It’s just a history of men written on stone.

Thumbing the character of _Babel,_ he recalled the first devastations known to men. One of the many that was caused by Heaven to establish power against the evolving creation of their father. It was superiority rather than fear that caused heaven to strike back against the mortals. 

They saw the fall of men, they thought the demonstration of power was enough, a sound warning never to thwart the rules of the highest order again. They were wrong.

Men are foolish. They never learn life from history, they can only live at the present and follow the same steps till they expire. Gifted with capable hands, they create, they develop, they progress, and still, they always want more.

They can easily build and just as easily destroy things. Castiel supposes it’s one of the traits his brothers find amusing about them. They persevere and destroy themselves with the same gusto.

Castiel grips the tablet and bows his head. He was no stranger to perseverance and destruction, it’s what brought him here in the first place. He had admired humans and their uncanny ability to survive. He saw things with different eyes as he grew closer to his charge. It’s not sympathy nor was it pity. It was only because Dean called, plain and simple, experienced his first taste of rebellion. Averted the _Apocalypse_ with two boys, an old drunk and…the fallen one… He embraced euphoria and freedom…

Only to fall back where he started, bloody and beaten.

Was helping the Winchesters avert Apocalypse the right thing? _Or perhaps it was wrong? That as intended, the world must come to an end because the words of his father remain absolute even in his absence… but that would mean losing everything…_

Filled with doubt, he sought his father for guidance.

_Nothing._

[ ](https://lootbox.tumblr.com/post/186782659744/dividers-from-my-old-photobucket-profile)

Now Castiel resents how Crowley came to his rescue.

He didn’t ask for it but the King of Hell came anyway and took care of the demons and the holy fire holding him captive. The King of Hell freed him from the raging circle of fire but it didn't free him from the bitterness of watching Dean walk away.

Castiel has never felt even more shackled. Tonight, he lost something big. Something irreparable and he knows he’s going to pay for it. Just remembering the pain in Dean’s green eyes filled with hurt and betrayal is enough to make him doubt and question his position for instead of his faithful charge and friend, he finds himself standing with a revolting demon. This in exchange for Dean’s trust? This double-dealing lying son of a bitch instead of his friend? Castiel grits his teeth and wishes Dean was here to quell this anger. But Dean's not here. Dean's gone.

So, this is his punishment for choosing a demon? Losing Dean?

To say he hates Crowley is an understatement. He loathes him with all his angelic fiber, he doesn't want anything to do with any demons anymore. He finds a tug in his gut that wants him to fly after Dean, to follow him and explain, but he doesn't know what Dean thinks of him now. An enemy? No, he’s not Dean's enemy. That's when he recognizes fear too. Fear of rejection. He beats his wings impatiently and tells Crowley to _get out_.

He despises himself but he loathes the demon even more for his parting words.

_“You know the difference between you and me? I know what I am. What are you Castiel?” taunts the demon that he is, “What exactly are you willing to do?”_

Castiel doesn’t know yet but he knows where he is going next.

[ ](https://lootbox.tumblr.com/post/186782659744/dividers-from-my-old-photobucket-profile)

It’s nothing out of common to watch the steady breathing of his sleeping charge despite not seeing eye to eye about his recent actions. Dean did trap him in the holy fire, but that does not invalidate Castiel’s mark, nor being Dean’s guardian transferrable just because he was guilty of consorting with fiends.

It’s also night time, of course he should be watching Dean.

Dean is once again sleeping on the couch arms crossed protectively around his chest. His head faces towards the entrance practiced by any self-preserving hunter while resting, but not many is that brave nor foolish to approach Dean Winchester while asleep these days. Those who did meet a blood-spattered end reminding Castiel of a ferocious bear with cuddly fur, green eyes.

He gets distracted when Dean softly called for his name. A dream.

A sudden impulse to reach his charge seizes the angel thwarted only by his own hesitation. He’s not sure why. Usually, he’d take up so much space. Back when he isn’t conscious of Dean’s weariness and discomfort. When Dean was still his friend.

What are they now? Why is he the villain in the story? And what is there a heavy crippling feeling his chest, as if his grace wants to split out of his vessel? A weight inside his stomach he cannot plug out. A sickening feeling clawing not only in his vessel but also his essence. He closed his fists.

He just wants Dean to understand.

His intent must’ve alerted something in the hunter because Dean’s eyelids flutter open. Castiel watches the hunter groggily looked around and rub his eyes. There’s something soft and welcoming the way Dean unfolds himself that gets Castiel to reveal himself on impulse.

He dislikes the unfolding of Dean’s thoughts and emotions right before his eyes— of surprise, fear, and a flash of anger and wariness that remained when he sits up.

He ignores Dean’s reflex to reach for his knife under the couch. Watches Dean takes a moment to compose himself until the hunter’s hands fall on his sides either realizing it was futile to resist, or that blind trust that Castiel wouldn’t harm him. He wished Dean trusted him more.

“ _How did you…”_

Castiel tells him about the miss in the angel proofing. Dean seemed unconcerned. The way he is unconcerned of many things about himself, least of all his own safety. Dean asks what he was doing there with every bit of bitterness in his tone served as Castiel’s punishment.

“I want you to understand.”

He’s doing this because of Dean but the man turns away in mock disbelief. He feels Dean’s anger pulsing through each word. Castiel can only stand far away from his revolting rage.

 _“You’re the one who taught me freedom and free will_.” He insists.

Dean’s voice rises.

_“You’re a frigging child, you know that? Just because you can do what you wanted doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want!”_

But he can. He will. Castiel is tired of explaining himself.

_“I know what I’m doing, Dean.”_

_“I’m not gonna logic you, okay? I’m saying don’t. Just cause. I’m asking you not to. That’s it.”_

_Asking… ordering…?_

“I don’t understand.”

Distress coils at the pit of his stomach and if Dean can only see how his wings are all tensed and furled up, he is sure the human would understand how pissed he is making an angel.

Dean doesn’t, that’s why Dean steps closer without fear, lit burns deep in his eyes. But something gave him away, something in the deep timbre of his voice that makes the angel pause from building unfathomable anger.

_“Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family… that you are like a brother to me. So, if I’m asking you not to do something, you gotta trust me, man.”_

Trust. Something only Dean can demand so casually that Castiel is more than willing to give. If not for poor timing and the fact that it’s this very family he wishes to protect. He yields to Dean now and they will all suffer…in the end, what else is Dean to offer except his life?

Castiel stares hard.

_“Or what?”_

Pain played in Dean’s expression before it closes, his tone final when he made it clear he will get in Castiel’s way. When all Castiel wanted him to do is back down… Dean always doing the opposite. It’s frightening how Dean can be consistent.

“ _You can’t, Dean. You are just a man. I’m an angel.”_

Frying fish had nothing to do with it. Castiel doesn’t understand but he is disappointed at the outcome of his visit. Dean looks it too. The heavy feeling claws back to his throat. He doesn’t look Dean in the eyes. It’s goodbye.

_“I’m sorry, Dean.”_

He bolts, apology more for his future actions rather than their exchanged because he knows he will hurt Dean. Well, not Dean, but someone close enough to incapacitate him for a short time...make Dean realize the distance between their power. Recognize his limitations…

If only Dean had listened, Castiel wouldn’t have to resort to this. If only Crowley did not threaten them… if only Dean remained ignorant of his plans, he wouldn’t have to worry about them throwing themselves in danger and mess with his plans. All this trouble because he couldn’t keep Dean where he wants him. He always asks, but Dean always does the opposite as if to mock him.

He perches on the top of Himalayas, surrounded by smoky clouds overlooking the blood ink sky, thinking of the man he pieced together now his greatest threat. Unlike Heaven, Castiel isn’t one to underestimate what a Winchester can do, not after Apocalypse. That wasn’t tactical. Being his enemy was not Dean’s role to take, but why must he add to Castiel’s trouble when all he wanted to do was save the world?

[ ](https://lootbox.tumblr.com/post/186782659744/dividers-from-my-old-photobucket-profile)

It’s just another betrayal. It shouldn’t hurt so much. He is Dean Winchester, the guy almost everyone he ever cared about left behind without batting eyelids, was it really that hard to understand someone wing-taped scrams too?

_It’s Cas._

Geez. The dorky angel shouldn’t have treated him like he, Dean, is someone special, now Dean’s thinking it and even returning the favor. But he wasn’t able to stop Cas when it mattered the most. So much for profound bondage, it doesn’t stick.

Dean told Sam and Bobby about Cas’s visit that night and their immediate reaction was to fix the angel proofing. Dean was fine with it until Bobby let out a slip that he didn’t want Dean having any secret meeting with Cas like a constipated version of _Romeo and Juliet, too bad for each other._ Dean knew they were in real shit when Sam didn’t retort at the butcher of a classic but instead added that Cas might retaliate and hurt Dean or kidnap him— 

Dean snorts incredulously, “What?”

“I’m just telling you to be careful. The last thing I want is my brother kidnapped by his own angel, okay?”

“You’re an idiot, why would Cas do that?”

Sam and Bobby exchanged meaningful looks, leaving Dean out of the joke. Dean dusts his hands and throws it in the air looking aggravated.

“What?” he demanded.

“Well, Cas likes you, Dean,” Sam reasons.

“So? Dude’s an angel, it’s their job to love humans…” at their skeptical looks as well as his own unconvinced tone, he adds, “Well, he got a full-loaded cart when his god distributed love for human affection, you can’t blame the guy for being true to his nature,” Dean glares when Sam rolls his eyes.

“It’s not just that… you guys have that ‘ _profound bond’_ ,” he air-quotes, “I think Castiel believes he owns a part of you or something and he will be back.”

“ _Profound what_?” Bobby says with a screwed expression.

Dean hacks a hand in the air, “It’s nothing, alright?”

“It’s not 'nothing' if you got something on you Cas owns, no wonder he got your ass.”

“Shut up, jesus, you’re both worse than dad,” He turns his back on them still frowning.

“Your dad’s more paranoid than both of us combined. He’d be hunting Castiel if he was here.” Bobby says. Dean thinks so too.

“Look, I got this. Cas maybe a giant ticking bomb, but his beef is not with us—"

“Stop protecting him, Dean. I know he’s your friend, but it’s time to open your eyes. Castiel doesn’t care who he hurts along the way, not even you.” Sam shakes his head.

That was some hard pill to swallow.

“Whatever you think, boy,” Bobby sighs, “it’s best you stay clear of his path until this mess is over. Nothing good happens where those angels are concerned.”

Dean doesn’t say anything. He let Sam and Bobby finish the warding while he pretends to clean his gun and blades. They don’t talk about Castiel again, at least not in front of Dean. He could hear Sam and Bobby talking in whispers by the kitchen and he left them alone too. Whatever they say, he just can’t imagine Castiel doing anything harmful to him at all. Well, maybe _do other things to him,_ that’s different. Dean would give anything for Cas to just come here and grab his shoulder and pin him on the wall, the same way the angel did in that alley. But instead of punches and kick, he would appreciate it if the angel lands him a kiss or two. Now there… he’ll be more amenable.

The thought made Dean sigh. That angel is so thick-headed, he doesn’t even realize how much Dean’s had a crush on him since Apocalypse. Or was it a predate? Anyway, he doesn’t try to understand why, doesn’t question how, when he feels things, he feels it and whether he shows and tells, that’s for him to decide. He thought Cas knew, but like everyone else with their dreams, missions and priorities, Dean doesn’t get chosen.

Swell.

_I’m doing this for you._

“No, you’re not...” Dean grits his teeth as he stares at the dark ceiling. Moonlight shine from the glass window bombarded with angel proofing. He lays on the couch again, hands at the back of his head, legs crossed, staring at nothing in particular and listening to the tiring thoughts of his mind in his loneliness. How long has it been—three days?

He could have done more to prevent this from happening. Could’ve prayed really loud to Cas to come back here and see reason… if not that, then see how much irrationally in love Dean is with him. Could’ve told him that too…

“If you were doing it for me, you’d be here kissing me.”

A familiar beat of wings—Dean could swear he saw a wing flutter in the air. He sits up, and sure enough, there’s Castiel staring at him quietly.

“Dean.”

“Cas?” Dean breathes, standing up, eyes hopeful.

“Are you okay?”

Dean blinks. “What?”

Castiel lowers his eyes, “I heard you pray.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Castiel stiffens. “I heard you distinctly.”

Dean frowns in puzzlement. “So? My prayer enough to bring you back in the yard?”

Castiel doesn’t answer. He just stood there like a mannequin, color of his skin making him one too. If only those layers come off— Dean snaps his head in attention. Unless Castiel is a liar or the angel is really getting all of Dean’s longing and desire…and mistake it for prayer? Shit—

“Does Sam suck that bad at angel proofing now?” he says in an attempt to distract himself.

Castiel gives the faintest nod. It’s Dean’s turn to stare at the angel carefully.

Dean inhales and sighs heavily. Something doesn’t fit… This isn’t Cas who showed up last time with chin up, ego stellar. No, something’s different. The angel still holds himself stiffly, still too tensed.

Dean narrows his eyes to peel beneath the deadpan façade. Castiel is still an angel, a very proud one with a head on the mission, and yet instead of plotting against Dean, here he is, in front of Dean claiming he heard Dean’s prayer…to be with Dean.

Dean blinks, green just saw Castiel plain and simple.

And maybe that’s just it. Maybe it’s as simple as it looks.

“What are you doing here, Cas?”

“I just…” Castiel flounders, “wanted to be… near.”

“Near." Dean nods flatly, "Cas, you’re the one who crossed the other side of the bridge I can’t follow. You know we’re on different sides, now right?”

“I know.”

“You coming here won’t convince me that what you’re doing s’right,’ He says carefully, word by word, waiting for the angel to meet his gaze.

“Yes,”

“That I think… what you’re doing is more than just trying to protect the world, or me. You just want to prove to them that… your choice was the right one. That stopping the first Apocalypse won’t cause for one or more….”

Castiel looks up, grit on his expression.

“You don’t understand. They want to recreate another Apocalypse. It means your bloodline will be dragged in a battle prophesized as the end of times. Our effort to avoid Apocalypse will be for naught, Dean, and you and Sam will be at the core of it again.”

Dean nods.

“Then why work with Crowley?”

Dean thought he heard a sharp beat of wings. He saw Castiel’s blue eyes flash in anger, cold fury deep set on his gaunt face and Dean wondered once again if Castiel was on anyone’s side except his own. Knowing Cas, the angel of the lord with the temperament of a toddler, Crowley will be toasted at the end of the deal.

Dean relaxed at the idea. He stares at the angel with less vehemence. Then something hit him. If Crowley meets his inevitable end, what of Cas? The King of Hell isn’t stupid, he will have tricks under his sleeve but one thing for sure nothing someone will be exploding at the end of the story.

Dean licks his lips, the possibility of Castiel dying now hitting all his alarm button. He doesn’t ask if Castiel knows he will die—the angel seemed set on that ending too or he would not be sacrificing everything.

_Sacrifice._

Dean inhales. Did… Cas sacrifice his friendship for this… because he knows he’ll die in the end? The thought of Castiel dying again hurt something deep in his chest.

“Cas, you don’t have to do this.”

“I am doing what I can… it’s just…” the angel hesitates.

Dean frowns, his heart racing. At the back of his mind, he can tell Sam’s voice saying something about getting kidnapped and such. Ridiculous. He swallows hard.

“Just what, Cas?”

“I think I can’t do it without destroying what I had built with my own hands.”

Dean’s eyes widen but he remains where he is. Castiel is still not looking at him. He wants to ask, no—to confirm if it meant what Dean thinks it meant. Because surely Castiel is only talking about one thing.

“Why don’t you?”

Blue eyes shoot in his direction. Dean doesn’t know if he should be relieved to see shock and sadness in those gentle blue. The angel eyes pretending not to care.

“Dean, you know I can’t hurt you.”

“Why not?” Dean taunts him, “I’m just a human right?”

Castiel’s eyes sparkle,m, deep in uncertainty. He bows his head again.

“I could. I just can’t bring myself to do it. It reminds me too much of… how I am becoming hypocritical in nature, capable of piecing a soul back together… and destroy it with a snap of my finger in order to build something again and… I thought… I am building a world with the possibility of you not being in it…”

When Castiel meets his gaze, all Dean can think about is running away. His heart is beating so loud, it hurts his ears so much. It’s too late for his throat. He’s walking to Cas before he can stop himself, stopping in front of the angel and leaning to peer in his eyes, a feat the angel has done to him a couple of times.

“Then don’t do it, stay with me.” He sounds like a Romeo, a voice at the back of his mind jeered. Good thing Cas prefers him way close.

“Then we perish and fall in the sea of fire—"

“Bullshit—you’re Cas! I’m Dean! Together, we can change it!”

“Dean—”

“Look, you know why you’re here? Because you want me— _beside you_ just like that time we kicked heaven and the whole apocalypse in the ass! It’s because we’re together, Cas! Nothing is impossible when we’re on the same side!”

“We can’t.”

“Yes, we can! Work with me, Cas,” Dean sounds more convinced that he remembers himself ever being, including that time he really wanted to stop Sam. Grabbing both Castiel’s shoulders, he draws him close. No one complains it’s natural.

“Listen to me, there's another way to win this..."

“We don’t know that, how can we—?”

“Oh hell, yes there’s a way, another way.” Dean licks his lips. He can save Cas from this mistake just like how he saved Sam. _“_ Cas, with your power, you can bring me to the future, right?”

Castiel blinks in surprise but unlike the angel way behind, Dean gets the feeling he is on the right path. Excitement coils in his stomach as he grips the angel’s shoulder tight.

“We can go in the future.”

“Why?”

Dean stalls and slowly licks his lips. What better way to change a person’s mind than see the result of their action? It certainly worked on him in the 2014 year. He avoided that, he can avoid what’s to come too.

“Can you do it?”

Castiel’s brows furrow in confusion.

“I can… but why?”

“I want you to do me a favor—and it’s okay if I’m the only one you can send forward—”

“What are you saying?”

“Future, Cas, the answer’s in the future.”

There are many ways this can go sideways but he doesn’t think of failing. He only thinks of his purpose and it’s right here before him.

“Dean,” Castiel looks deep in his eyes, almost in concern, “Going to the future is a tricky matter, much more than the past, no one knows which exact strand to follow. Futures can be changed by a singular action from one person—you could get lost—and I don’t mean in time. I mean your present moral or perspective can change—"

“I can handle it,” Dean says resolutely, almost impatiently, “As far as I can tell, nothing of those will exist until we make the decision to _make it exist,_ so let’s do the zapping thing. Let’s see what’ become of the angel—if you turn out to be someone with your own cult—I swear, I’m gonna laugh at you for real,”

Castiel just stares at him like he really wants Dean laid.

“It doesn’t answer my question. Why?”

Dean sighs. “Do you remember when Zachariah brought me to 2014? Where Sam said yes to Lucifer, you turned to a sexy-hippie and I died? Remember that?”

“I wasn’t there.”

“Yeah, you were banging— anyway, gone there I saw what I got wrong. We can do that here too, see if things work out. Take peek of this future you’re trying to make, and good or bad, I’ll let you decide.”

“It’s too risky.”

Dean snorts, “Cas, I’m betting my life over this—but I’m telling you one way or another, someone among us will drop dead. Think about it, since when has a deal with demon worked out for anyone but them?”

Castiel’s constipated face doesn’t change. “Why does it feel like I will lose you both ways?”

Dean shrugs. He cannot answer that. He straightens and waits for Castiel’s verdict, sighing quietly when the angel lifts a finger.

“Stop looking so serious,” Dean smirks, earning a glare from the blue-eyed celestial being.

“I am trying to concentrate on the timeline. It’s not that easy.”

“Cas, this will work. So come on, hit your mojo, just like that. So, I can see how to save you this time,”

“I don’t need saving,” Castiel grinds his teeth, “But I will join you.”

“What about your grace?”

“I have been saving my grace for the upcoming battle. I have enough to cover both of us twice. I am risking my powers for this, Dean. Because I believe in you.”

Dean can’t help grinning, “That makes us two.”

“I assure you, it will be a better world,” Castiel blue eyes glow.

“Then show me,” Dean dares. He sees doubt cross the angel’s expression and he halts his finger in the air, “Too late to back out now, or are you so afraid to find out—?”

Dean forgets how much he hates all the zapping things until the last second but they were gone.

[ ](https://lootbox.tumblr.com/post/186782659744/dividers-from-my-old-photobucket-profile)

Castiel smartly drops them inside an apartment with apple green wall, straight down the bed where Castiel crashes on top of the angel. Bodies pressed, legs tangled, Dean groans with bad headache as he pushes from Castiel’s solid chest with gritted teeth.

“I hate zapping!” he freezes, faces too close to Castiel. Angel blinks back quietly, squinting and trying to get in Dean’s eye sockets. The hunter swallows hard with his heart beating hard against his chest it’s impossible Castiel can’t hear—

Dean bolts up feeling his face heat up. He throws his legs on the floor, heard Castiel sit up on the other side too. Avoiding any awkward silence, Dean clears his throat.

“What time is it, man?”

“It’s 8:00 pm, current date Tuesday, August, 2020.”

Dean hisses at the throbbing of his head. 2011 straight to 2020?

“Here,” Castiel says, placing his right palm on top of Dean’s head to heal him.

“Thanks,” Dean mutters and doesn’t comment on the way Castiel fondly pets his hair, “Uh… so… evening. What’s the news? Are we near us? Or Bobby’s?”

Castiel inclines his head to one side like he’s listening to something. Dean watches the angel as he narrows his eyes and then turn on his other shoulder.

“I cannot detect any of your presence, not even Sam’s. I supposed they managed to finally make a proper angel proof warding,” Castiel grabs the remote from the side table and sits beside Dean on the bed, “Also… there’s this.”

Dean frowns at the flat-screen TV.

“What’s happening?” It’s chaos out there.

“A host of humans protesting on the street for… justice?” Castiel says, “Humans tend to have this display every decade or century. Mass revolt when those who govern them is not to their satisfaction.”

“That’s what you call human will,” Dean’s eyes feast on the mass violence of protesters all carrying signages. What is a little surprising is that it’s not only in the country? Almost the entire world is protesting that even the angel can’t help frowning.

“This has never happened before… this grand scale… worldwide…”

“Whatever started it must be pretty damn big to result in such a worldwide rage… you sure this is not your doing? I mean the future you?” he turns to Cas who shakes his head.

“I am not sure, but it’s about time you humans find your common ground. The tower of Babel is over half a century, it’s time you homogeneous-genus unite. When will you realize that not one of you is insignificant?”

“Yeah, you’re really not one to talk.”

Dean is beside himself when he found out about other world catastrophes of viruses and natural disasters. He curses upon seeing the death tolls in different regions of the world. He grabs the remote from Castiel to turn the volume to its maximum.

_“… the plague believed to have come from the water dam from a state in USA has now affected several major reservoirs in the country…”_

“A virus from the US?” Dean shakes his head, “2011? Damn, Cas, maybe it’s something you did. It’s much the same when Sam said yes to Lucifer, you know? Croatoan virus was released... But dude, why 2020?”

“I…miscalculated.”

“What?”

“You distracted me.”

Dean snorts. Castiel doesn’t offer any more explanation so the hunter absorbs all the information on the newsflash.

Governments fell… people died… and it seems it’s still not enough. _What the hell happened to 2020?_

“So, what they really said it’s true. If we don’t go up there in technology, we’re just going to fall down on our own asses…. in the end, nobody will really survive. Maybe you did. I know I won't.”

Castle gives him a nasty look, “You will not die, Dean.”

“You’ve got more faith in me if you think I can survive until 2020, Cas.”

“It takes will.”

Dean shrugs, “This is the future.”

“It’s weird.”

“Yeah.”

“I cannot feel your presence. The future you,” Castiel clarifies.

“Maybe I’m dead.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, irate. “You’re not dead. It can’t be.” He stands up.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to look around, we can't stay here all night talking about… nonsensical things. We need a clear plan and seeing as you do not have one, it is up to me to see what we need to find. Stay here and sleep. You can't help me.”

“You’re the one who transported us to an evening delight in a motel. Order me a pizza.”

Castle glowers. Dean is getting used to Cas’ wanting him laid- look. He will not get tired of teasing Cas.

“Dean… What’s our mission here?” Castle asks quietly.

Dean's face turns serious.

“You still don't know?”

Castiel’s eyes flicker, but then he's gone. Leaving Dean slumping his back on the bed with an arm pressing on his forehead as he stares at the ceiling with a heavy heart.

“It's to save you, you idiot.” He sighs.

[ ](https://lootbox.tumblr.com/post/186782659744/dividers-from-my-old-photobucket-profile)

“You seem to be more tired than I thought,” deep gravelly voice wakes Dean from slumber and he is once again sitting up blinking the white lights from his eyes. There’s Castiel by the window with the sun rising up in the East.

“You try getting zapped nine years,” Dean grumbles and shakes his head.

“It’s the same,”

“Hm?” Dean gets up, sees the clutter left on the table where he left the open box of pizza now empty and cans of beer compliments of the mini-fridge. He turns to the angel still watching the sky.

_“The sun never fails to rise in the East; the earth continues to breathe and will continue doing so for hundreds of years…”_

“Cas, you going all poetic on me? Cuz I need to take shit and shower?” Dean blinks.

Castiel glares at him. Dean rolls his eyes. Heading to the minifridge with intense blue eyes following him, he rubs the back of his neck, stretches a little before ducking down to get a bottled drink.

“Okay, go poetic, who cares about staying clean, I’ll shit myself once we return to our timeline anyway. So, what’s new? Did you find anything?”

“Nothing,”

“Oh, so we’re really all dead 2020?”

“There’s no need for such conclusion, I do believe the hunters are still around but there are lesser traces of demons, let alone monsters…” their eyes meet as Dean swallows his drink. He points a finger at Cas whose deadpan expression looks just a little different.

“You look happy,”

Castiel tilts his frowning face but Dean can see the triumph gleaming behind Cas’ blue eyes. Castiel is thinking about it.

“No, Cas, this isn’t winning. You saw that on tv last night? No, that isn’t winning.”

“It is not my concern how humans’ will enact after my choices. We both don’t know what went wrong, but from everything I have seen from a long time ago, humans tend to destroy whatever is lying on their feet. It is not mine to control, Dean, but to know that demons have less become active means I was able to stop Crowley at some point. I had a win.”

Dean surprisingly has no counter to that so he drinks quietly, turning his back on the angel.

“I think we should go back a few more years,” Castiel tells him while Dean returns the cap of his water, “I think we’ll find out more about what happened to the Winchesters. No one of here can tell me exactly what happened to you and Sam or Bobby…”

“I told you, it’s obvious,” Dean turns behind him and hisses because Castiel is already behind him ogling so closely.

“Even if you died, I’d rather want to prove it’s not by my hands. Death is an inevitable thing. Are you ready?”

“Just—”

Castiel flaps his wings and Dean knows they are flying—zapping—the hell of transportation. But when he opens his eyes, he finds himself standing in the middle of a street just about the corner where people are running away, a number of protesters shouting and cursing. Dean’s first instinct is to fight, but there’s really nowhere else to go as he is caught in the crossfire. There’s just so much violence that when an armed officer approached Dean, Castiel flicks an impatient finger on his forehead and he tumbles on the ground, knocked out.

“Humans are not your enemy,” Castiel growls as he sticks beside Dean watching everything unfold.

“What’s happening here, Cas?” Dean breathes deeply at the number of people in civil war while Castiel narrows his eyes.

“Humans making their choices… others standing up for other… officers not knowing what to do but their jobs… complete misinformation and heartless leaders. Chaos.”

Dean swallows hard as he sees women, old men, _young adults_ get beaten without prejudice that at some point upon seeing a woman tumble on the ground, he nearly jumps out to protect her, only Castiel kept a firm hold on his arm.

“There’s nothing you can do about it,”

“But this is the future!”

Castiel smiles grimly. “Such an irony, but isn’t this what you also taught me, Dean? That when there’s free will and one is willing to fight for it, the effect should not be expected to be minimal. Freewill equates to standing up. Knowing what you want to stand for… and what generally happens to you when you do. The process of change can be both peaceful and painfully violent… to some, it is the only way they can be heard. The people here cannot find the same ground because of the lack of response from the leaders, others take advantage for their own gain. And thus…

“Then where are you in this picture?” Dean growls heatedly, jerking his hand away from the angel, “If you’ve become so powerful, why aren’t you out here doing anything? Smite those leaders or whoever is causing this.”

“Everyone is causing this,”

“Yeah, right. So even heaven is still not doing anything about it?”

“One should not wait for divine punishment nor rely on it to stop all other human errors. I think the people here have long realized that. That if they want to change, they need to seize it with their own two hands,”

“But you’re _here, you’re real!”_

Castiel stares curiously at him. Dean wished he knows what’s running in Castiel’s pretty head. Aside from the slight changes of expressions he can barely read, Castiel remains an enigma for him. The way Castiel is watching him tells him how he is as much as a mystery to the angel as well.

“I healed an injured police officer last night,”

Dean stares back, Castiel continues, “He was bleeding on the sidewalk and none wanted to help him and when heads are turned, I healed him and the first thing he did is shoot me with a gun. Tell me, Dean… should an angel also choose sides right at this moment? Will it benefit me in any way to save the world?”

“You’re asking me that now, you’re the one who wants to crack open Purgatory! Who says this isn’t because of that?”

“It isn’t. It’s also possible I did not succeed. That you stopped me,”

Dean pauses and only give Castiel a calculating stay. They both turn their eyes back at human Apocalypse and Dean thinks how hunters would not be found here. That instead of watching this kind of downfall, the hunters will stay back, fighting the other side of the battle while everyone tries to fight for what

“We should’ve done some research before we made any move,” Dean shakes his head, “That’s why it does us no good heading straight to a fight without any juice how to fight.”

“We may not need to. We are leaving this,”

“I’ll tell you one thing though, Scrooge,” Dean licks his dried lips and casts a look over the extreme riots again, “This is also a domino effect of what you’re after with Crowley. It didn’t make things any better. Healing one person didn’t save anyone, healing us won’t make them thankful. We’ll just think of other ways to destroy ourselves.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Why?” the angel turns.

“We’re humans. We survive, we make we create, ultimately we destroy em. At least that's what you told me..."

“I don’t think it is very smart,"

Dean zeroes in on Castiel and suddenly this is about them again, about that mission he wants Castiel to realize on his own. “You can make the smart choice now, Cas. We don’t have to do anything anymore, we just go back to our timeline, you forget about Crowley, you stick to my side and I’ll help you out with Raphael and anyone else trying to hurt you!”

Something flickers behind the angel’s eyes and Dean can tell he is making progress. He holds on that. Stares Castiel hard in the eyes and communicate silently that he will not leave Castiel.

“Cas—”

“I am not here because I fear what they can do to me,” the angel says quietly, “I fear them because of what they can do _to you._ Dean, I told you—”

“Yeah, I get it, you wanna protect me! Then protect me! But don’t leave my side!”

Castiel hesitates and Dean easily gets distracted by his lips. It’s a shame really that they are in the middle of a battlefield or he would have…

Except Castiel is staring at him. Dean doesn’t shy away and lets Cas dissect every line of his thoughts and then he waits in anticipation, but as dodgy as ever, Castiel bows his heads and changes the topic 

“I think we should go,”

Dean breaths deeply but he knows it’s a lost cost once the angel has stepped away and avoided his eyes. The next thing he knows is the angel’s finger brushing his forehead and they were gone.

He tells himself it’s not yet too late to kiss Cas.

[ ](https://lootbox.tumblr.com/post/186782659744/dividers-from-my-old-photobucket-profile)

“2015,” Castiel tells him with the beating of his wings making Dean close his eyes again. He staggers a little but Castiel holds his arms for support and may have healed Dean in the process.

When he opens his eyes, it is to find himself standing in the middle of the familiar yard of Bobby’s house. Relief washed over Dean because at least it’s a peaceful afternoon without anyone trying to bat him away and that it still exists in 2015. Nothing to assure him more than the presence of his home.

There’s a nudge on his shoulder and he realizes he’s standing too close to Castiel—so close he can feel the angels breathe brushing his left ear.

Dean hastily steps forward while trying to calm his pounding heart.

“Are you okay, Dean?”

“Y-yeah.”

“The tips of your ears are red,”

Dean whirls at the angel furiously, “Maybe if you stop trying to bite it, it would—” he hates it every time he catches the angel staring back at him so innocently and easily getting on his nerves.

“You are not edible—”

“Can it,” Dean rebukes, looking around to distract himself because the sooner they finish this, the sooner he’ll stop telling himself Castiel actually will reciprocate his feelings, “Are people even alive here?” The emptiness is nothing new to him, this is one of Bobby’s secret hives after all where that panic room is installed and there’s nowhere else Dean would go in a chaotic world than the said panic room.

Also, right now he is still panicking. Castiel is already monitoring the surroundings while Dean scratches the back of his ear where he’s sure he felt Castiel’s mouth.

Dean is thinking a lot of things relating to Castiel’s lips when Cas’ voice brings him back to the present. Or future. He scratches his head. Angel stuff is complicated.

“I don’t see the impala, but Bobby’s inside,” the angel is squinting at the small window of the shabby house. Dean doesn’t wait long he strides towards the house glad that finally with someone who can shed the light of the future and not just all brawls and throwing punches. He enters from the kitchen, a place he remembers just stepping into yesterday thinking about Cas. Now that he is here, now that Castiel is also here, yet without Bobby or Sam, it all feels incomplete.

“Bobby?”

The house looks the same, if not a little dusty. The books are cobweb filled even those near Bobby’s table much to Dean’s dismay. Bobby may not be the cleanest freak in the world but he knows how to treasure his books. There are bottles everywhere half empty, others broken. Not good signs.

What has Bobby been up to?

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice comes from the door. Dean blinks at him.

“What?”

“The angel warding, please,” Cas sighs in exasperation.

“Oh,” Dean goes to the window and wipes one of the sigils by the window, “Guess Bobby got them correct now.”

“He’s there,” Castiel says appearing by Dean’s elbow, “just wait for Dean… he’s different.”

Dean’s heart skips a beat.

“Different, how?” he demands.

“Dean?”

Dean and Castiel both turn at the same time as Bobby comes out from the drawing-room. Dean’s mouth falls. Bobby is in a wheelchair, but much more than that, it’s the look on the old hunter’s face—almost the same expression that Dean had seen once on him when he returned straight from his grade after his forty years in hell.

He will not blame the hunter if he pulls a gun on his face.

“Shit, I died again, didn’t I?” Dean whispers raising both his hands warily in surrender. Question after questions pop up in his head but right then he can only think of defending himself because you’d be a fool to approach Bobby Singers even without legs, “Bobby— it’s me—look it’s Cas too—”

Bobby’s eyes sweep from him to Castiel before he fully focuses on Dean.

“Dean…?”

Dean waits. Bobby doesn’t move to reach for any weapons but he still keeps his eyes on Dean alone. Dean waits. He feels a little silly when a full minute passed by and _nothing._ Dean turns to Castiel who is squinting at the old hunter too. Dean sighs.

“Bobby? Bobby—if you don’t do anything to check if it’s the real me, I swear I’m gonna freak out and throw salt or holy water on your face!”

“It’s the real Bobby,” Castiel comments from his side.

“The real Bobby would’ve pulled a shotgun on me now; don’t you see the gun behind the wheels?” he snaps.

“You idjits,” Bobby sniffs, and if the tears on his cheeks don’t freak Dean at all, nothing will. Dean crosses the distance between them and hugs him like a family that he is even though he’s only seen Bobby last night. His surrogate father embraces him warmly and Dean can feel his anguish the way his smaller form shakes. Bobby never looked so old to him.

“It’s been too long…”

_How long…?_

“Hey, hey it’s okay…”

“You’re really Dean, aren’t you?”

“Breathing and alive,” they pull apart and Dean hastily wipes the lone tear off his cheek. Bobby won’t let go of his wrist. Dean sniffs too once he straightens, “What the hell happened, Bobby?”

“You’re asking me? You’re the one who popped up in my doorstep after four years with—” Bobby pulls his shotgun and shoots Castiel three, four-five times—Castiel doesn’t bother dodging and Dean sighs to see it’s not something harmful to angels, _“This monster!”_

Castiel’s brows furrow and he look at Dean for instruction. Dean licks his lips then holds the gun down.

“It’s okay, Bobby, this is _our Cas…_ he isn’t the monster who turned… wait, did you say four years?” He stares at the hunter in awe, “You mean I’ve been dead four years?”

Dean raises his eyes to Castiel more horrified than ever, especially when Bobby nods his head. Castiel looks indignant at the thought but Dean can only shrug. Nothing they can do over a sad truth.

“I told you I died,”

“And you’re not far away from the guy who did it,” Bobby adds acidly with eyes on Castiel.

Dean nods. Castiel looks a little put out at least. That’s something and when their eyes catch again, Dean shakes his head.

_Told you so._

[ ](https://lootbox.tumblr.com/post/186782659744/dividers-from-my-old-photobucket-profile)

“I don’t understand, I won’t hurt Dean,” Castiel insists almost angrily as he stands by the wall in the same spot where he stood when they had Adam in the house. Dean stays on the couch while Bobby is in the middle of the room.

“That’s what you want to believe, but I saw his body once you were done with him. _I buried him! All the scars in his body were you doing! You tortured him!”_ anger rolls in Bobby’s voice, and if he wasn’t on a wheelchair— _“If I’m not on this wheelchair, I’d bury an angel blade in your face!”_

“Bobby, please, that’s why we’re here,” Dean says, “Cas is here with me, we came from that year before everything go screwed up, because Cas doesn’t want that to happen— _am I right, Cas?”_

Castiel straightens. “Of course, Dean.”

Dean turns to Bobby, “See? It’s a good thing jumping from one timeline to another is easy peasy to him, but he’s the same Cas before any betrayal, Bobby. He’s come clean. It’s Cas who agreed to see… to change the future if necessary… so I’d like to know first,” he takes a deep breath, “Did Sam die too?”

It’s the most important. It’s at the top of the list.

Bobby pauses for a moment, then he lowers his eyes.

“Death would have been better for your brother but… he’s alive. But not… not Sam,”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you remember?” Bobby asks heavily. “What timeline did you come from?” Dean shrugs.

“Uhhh… two nights after we put him in holy fire, next day after you perfected the sigil, that helps?”

Bobby nods, thick brows still together as he stares at the angel.

“The day before the eclipse, the day the angels killed Elle for her blood.”

Dean is struck. “What?”

“Let me tell you it wasn’t as pretty as you imagined it, boy,” Bobby pulls his wheelchair closer to Dean whose eyes travel down the old hunter’s wheels with a little sad smile, “that also done by Cas?”

“Oh, this? A small price to pay, for what he did to you and Sam,” he gives Castiel a nasty look, “You know Dean… I can’t ever trust him...”

Dean nods slowly and waits. Bobby sighs.

“He turned God.”

Dean stares at Bobby with eyes narrowing, then Castiel.

“We heard from Elle, she was captured by demons and then squeezed of blood as sacrifice for opening Purgatory by the angels. Your best friend and Crowley were planning to break Purgatory with her as part of the ingredient… we…. She died. And then Mr. Blue eyes police comes by and warned us to back off.” Bobby sneers at Castiel again, “You know what he said Dean? That he doesn’t care what we think. He can stop Raphael he said…as long as we go home and leave him alone.”

“But we didn’t?” Dean finds a kind of satisfaction when Bobby shakes his head, “Old classic move,”

“He targeted Sam,” Bobby adds. Dean’s mouth drops, “He did, Dean. Flew behind Sam and broke his wall.”

“Broke wall—what wall?”

“I’m talking about the dam keeping his shit together after hell, Dean. Are you sure we’re in the same timeline?”

“Screw that, you’re telling me Cas really went dark side and hurt Sam!?” Dean bellows, glaring over the silent angel.

“I told you, all hell spilled loose just because we didn’t listen to him. We had to cart your brother back here where we waited, but the eclipse was coming and we had to move. We had to leave Sam behind when Balthazar finally showed up and gave us Castiel’s location. Then point there it was all too late. Your Baby tumbled off the cliff.”

Dean hisses a curse as he stands up, wiping his mouth in the process. _“Son of a bitch!”_ Castiel doesn’t say anything so Bobby continues, “Turned out too, he betrayed Crowley. Castiel had absorbed all the Purgatory souls and snapped Raphael like a bubble. He became god.”

“I did not imagine any of this, Dean, not that grand a scale,” Castiel says with eyes only at him, “I didn’t—”

Dean ignores him.

“We went after him, right? This _God… Godstiel_ …” he rolls his eyes, “What did he do?”

“He kidnapped you for starters,” Bobby doesn’t meet his eyes and Dean understands it’s Bobby relieving the most painful memory of four years ago, “He wanted you, me, the world to bow down to him, but he wanted to get over you first. It’s like something bad, Dean… he wants to get over you and… tortured you because you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, it’ll take more than torture to make me bow to an asshole, I’d rather die,” he eyes Castiel who won’t meet his eyes, “Then what happened?”

“Well, I found him eventually in some old junkyard with your body…. A week after… down B-line… your mangled body in his arms and he’s just…dark. All that soul in Purgatory exploded but he emerged back and took you… he’s bad news then, Dean. He killed you.” Bobby closes his eyes and shivers. Dean nods sympathetically.

“And Sam?”

“He’s just in the mental ward, Dean. There’s nothing, no one could have done to make him forget… I tried everything, hypnosis, witches… there’s nothing. That day I lost both my boys, and it’s all because of you,”

The surmounting anger in Bobby’s eyes as he stares Castiel in the eyes is full resentment and hate, “You took my boys from me,”

Castiel stays quiet, then he lowers his gaze.

“Bobby, it wasn’t him.”

“You’re still saying that? After what he did—after he betrayed us? Wake up, Dean! The sooner you realize there’s no saving him, the better you understand you have a ticking bomb in your hands! Some kind of angel isn’t going to reciprocate your feelings no matter how much you try!”

Dean keeps his eyes on the ground.

Of course, Bobby knew. There’s little to none he can keep from Bobby since then. He can feel Castiel’s eyes on him but it’s too late for that now. What bothered him however was what happened between him and the God…. _Godstiel_ … he rolls his eyes. What a moniker.

He stares Bobby in the eyes and tries as he might he just couldn’t bring himself to get angry. He runs his right hand through his hair, wipes his mouth with his palm, and still can’t find it in himself to get angry with the angel. Darting his eyes to Castiel who stays still but his blue eyes flicker to Dean and it’s full of question, doubt, the same look Dean had seen given him inside the angel prison room where he convinced the angel to let him out so he can save Sam. It felt like a long time ago.

Glancing at Bobby, he shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, nothing I can do about it, I never get to dictate my feelings you know?” he doesn’t look at the angel. “You done?”

Bobby snorts, unimpressed.

“I haven’t even begun yet. I need to hit your head now and kill him immediately because that’s what he wanted, Dean. Before he kills you, he wanted you to submit to him. For you to fall to pieces.”

Dean catches Castiel’s eyes. He can’t read it but he glimpses a slight touch of fear in the otherwise always confident handsome face.

“That’s enough, Bobby,”

“We need to talk more,” Bobby turns his wheelchair away with one final glowering look at Cas, “I don’t feel comfortable around him at all if I’m not on this wheelchair—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re going to bitch about him and then bitch more, I get it.” Dean takes the back of the wheelchair and begins pushing, “Where off to, sir?”

“Shut up you idjits,”

Dean chuckles, but before he can even leave the room, he gives Castiel one long look that tells him to stay.

[ ](https://lootbox.tumblr.com/post/186782659744/dividers-from-my-old-photobucket-profile)

To say Bobby isn’t one to hold a grudge is like saying the Grinch leaving Christmas presents for children to find. He tells Dean the rest of the story with a disquiet look in his eyes and Dean couldn’t blame him. Bobby was there to live the hell Castiel apparently brought to the Winchesters when he couldn’t get away from the consequences of eating all the Leviathans. Dean knew from the beginning they were bad news and he’s glad more than ever that they went there to find out, otherwise Castiel would’ve been lost forever. Dean isn’t going to let that happen, he’s certainly isn’t going to let this future come to past, whatever it is that happened here that’s far worse than any Apocalypse combined.

Then Bobby tells him of this Nirvana group—a group of hunters composed of humans and angels alike hunting the rebellious angel to a common end. Godstiel’s destruction.

_“Many have died on his wake, Dean… and you one of them sends a message to everyone else that what they have now is a monster. After all, he killed you.”_

So maybe they succeeded, that’s why there was no Godstiel in the next future, but what difference does it make when even without the Supernatural, the world is still in chaos?

In the end, Castiel dies. Is that all that is for them? Death? Dean sighs heavily at the thought and becomes more resolute to put a stop on all of this his way. The question now is how?

He left Bobby with a Xanax at hand who’s still convinced the Castiel out there is a murdering machine. Dean finds Castiel leaning by the kitchen counter after an hour and a half talk with Bobby. By then he’s found out the gist of what had happened to “Godstiel” after he killed them all four years ago too, how Castiel just disappeared on earth like it’s the last place he wanted to ever be. He finds Castiel staring into nothingness with arms crossed around his chest, lips curled and waiting.

They lock gazes and Dean must say, Cas is the perfect reflection of Bobby, in an angel sense. The angel still stares back with a deadpan but Dean’s certain of what he can sense from him, call it what instinct but the way he can feel Cas, Cas’ humanity and self-doubt…

This Cas still has humanity and he’s not going to let that go. This is just like Sam all over again… _kids._

Dean shrugs casually and turns to the fridge. He can feel Castiel’s eyes follow him as he grabs two bottles of beer and hands one to the angel before siding with him, leaning with their back to the window. Several moments pass, Dean licks his lips, bitter taste clawing down his throat.

“I guess it’s fine if I don’t heal his legs yet,” Castiel says out of nowhere that makes Dean half-smile. 

“You bet your ass, you don’t want Bobby Singers tailing behind you, they said.”

“They say the same things about you too… you Winchesters do have a reputation.”

Dean smiles wanes. “Godstiel… that’s what Bobby called you, Cas. Power drunk and driven… you really put a notch on the meaning of destroying the world.”

Castiel looks away, arms tightening on his chest. He looks more constipated than usual.

“It won’t change anything for Bobby here though, healing his legs, I mean.”

“I hear you,” Castiel bows his head and puts the bottle on the counter. “I just want you to know I will never… I wouldn’t have let anyone kill you—”

“You did, here,” Dean points his bottle in the air, then finally stares at Castiel, “You hurt everyone I love,”

Castiel’s face crumples from deadpan to straight hurt. And it’s this that Dean wants to remember. He wants to remember that Castiel is still someone he can reason with, someone who cares. And he can only do that by making Castiel regret.

“I’m sorry, Dean,”

Dean nods.

“That’s what we said to each other that night, remember? How we’re _sorry_?” Dean takes a swig and swallows the lump stuck in his throat. When he speaks, his voice is heavy and lashing. “What was it that Bobby said? You… want me in pieces? Is that what you really want from me, Cas? Did I disappoint you so much you want to destroy me?”

“No, Dean, I—” Castiel begins helplessly, pushing himself from the counter, but Dean couldn’t stop once his emotions start to pour like steam acid and he meets Castiel halfway. He stands his ground, facing the angel.

“You have to make it stop.”

Castiel’s blue eyes widen. Dean licks his lips and takes a step closer.

“You must see it now, Cas. Why it’s a bad idea to be workin with Crowley! And I’m not saying it just you killed me, okay? I don’t just say it because I want you to save me—or Sam or Bobby… I’m sayin it because you need to hear it— or you’ll lose everything.”

Castiel shakes his head, “There must be another way where I don’t have to kill you. Maybe it’s you who need to change direction, Dean. Some future where you don’t need to die— if you just stand down—"

Dean blinks. Stubborn bastard. “Cas—"

“I know this now, I’ll keep it in mind, I’ll try to get away from you as much as I can. Maybe it’s you who needs to stop, Dean.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Dean grits his teeth. He wants to grab Castiel and shake reason out of his stubborn head. “Cas, we’re trying to prevent you from turning dark side! Because once you go down that path, there’s no turning back! And don’t dare tell me to step down, because I’ll come down crashing if I have to if it means stopping you.”

“You can’t stop me. If I let you and Raphael win, it’s the same thing. You’ll die in his hands too... It’s another Apocalypse one after the other...” Castiel's rough voice falters.

“I’d rather die in your hands.”

Castiel sharply takes an inhale. Dean will remember forever and he seizes that chance. “Every day people die, sometimes for nothing, sometimes so abruptly they don’t even know what hit them… but if they’re lucky enough, sometimes it’s by choice. And I’m making that choice.”

“Stop it, Dean.” Castiel’s tone is grave.

“You can’t stop me either. So, I die in your hands.”

“No.” Castiel’s eyes flicker downward but Dean’s not done. He’ll keep digging if he has to until Castiel sees it, that there’s another way.

“Cas, if you really want to save me, you know that’s not you following the pattern here… Fuck Raphael and his gizmo army, you don’t deserve to give that kind of sacrifice just to stop him!”

Castiel closes his mouth and Dean wonders if he is getting through.

“But the 'me' here still managed to kill him—"

“Is that really all you can think about? Killing rather saving?”

Castiel doesn’t answer. Dean takes the opportunity to step forward again while the angel’s attention is fixed on him. When he is sure Castiel is listening. He fixes his eyes into those blues.

“Let’s say you do what you have to do, care nothing about me or my family,” he starts quietly, “let’s say you kill Raphael… let’ say I left you along and then what? Face the Leviathans that’d jumped out of you? _Alone?_ The same Leviathans who corrupted your vessel? It’s the same thing, you ganked the heavenly villain to pull another one from hell. The way I see it there’s no win-win here, Cas, you’re the only one who loses.”

Castiel looks away. He looks dejected and Dean knows he’s getting to him. It’s a window he takes.

“Now I know I wouldn’t leave you, Cas that’s why Bobby said you kidnapped me and tortured me… I don’t know what happened between us, but I know I never bowed to you. You probably got all psycho with power, but I know it wasn’t you who killed me. Because the 'you' I trust would’ve returned me alive to my family. I trusted you to make Sam well again… I trust you, Cas. Dammit, I trust you because you’re the one who saved me from hell and if there’s anyone—anyone at all who I’d allow to kill me, who has the right to kill me, it would be you, man. But not like that. Not that guy who took my best friend.”

The angel stares up, blue eyes blazing.

“I will not kill you… I won’t let anyone…” Castiel says fiercely back and his voice reverberates in the entire kitchen. “That wasn’t what I…”

Dean nods, but it's not just the blue eye that's attracting him now. “Then make a different choice now. Cas' lips are within reach... and they could both die tomorrow. Hell, he died in this world already... and he wondered...

"That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

He eyes Castiel's lips and licks his own. In a flash, Castiel's hands round at the back of his head. They freeze with time, gazing deep into each other, air paper-thin until Dean leans in to capture the waiting lips of the angel. Castiel pulls him, the touch of the angel's lips too warm and nice, soft and a scaping stubble, but he kisses glorious.

[ ](https://sketching-fox.tumblr.com/post/626805058485551104/hi-everyone-here-are-my-artworks-done-for-the?fbclid=IwAR2ejGXEzJu_X5shrSWPxy4joiaLT2q_Z8A2PCd_llpBxU1Mem-YH2466lE)

"Bobby..."

"...is asleep," Cas assures him. They nibble each other's lips, Castiel nosing Dean's cheek but Dean wants to kiss more. His mind blows in pieces every time he catches Castiel's mouth. Holding fast on the angel's elbow, he breathes into Cas, sloppy exchange unhurried and chaste. He doesn't know how they got there or what brought it on, all he can think about is wanting to kiss Cas again and again, in so many different ways that he wants him.

Dean touches Castiel's chin. "You wanna do this here? Now?"

Castiel's answer is obvious. He gives Dean a little smile before they both drawback, their breaths when they go to their corners, shoulder slumping as they lean back on the counter. It's all in the timing, but still, Dean's chest doesn't stop the drumbeat. Or the shaking of his body. He briefly thinks he fucked up, that Castiel must not like his kiss but when he glanced over and sees Castiel watching him with blue eyes transfixed on Dean's lips, he knows his answer.

It's all in timing and the kiss was like healing magic of assurances.

Castiel stays quiet for some time and Dean fills it up with the sound of him drinking from his bottle. Bobby’s kitchen is the same if not a little filthy but it was still there. Something old that Dean would’ve called home if not for the painful memories later.

“You know I don’t really think I’ll survive that long,” he starts again, staring away into the darkness of the room, leaving Castiel glancing at him in silence, “Hunters are fated to die either in the hands of monsters or bad accidents while drunk trying to drown sorrow in. Those lucky enough to survive like Bobby, you already saw the business never really left them… hunters are always set some horrible life and die in the end with no one to remember. Me? I’d go the same way, you killin me ain’t really that surprising, I’ve accepted that. It’s a hunter’s life all over again, but that’s me. That’s my life. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It’s Dean’s turn to look away trying to suppress a sob. His eyes burn for some reason and whatever it is that wants to scream out of his chest, he stomped on that too. A beat of silence, it felt like wings flicker the air then—

“What am I, Dean?”

Dean curiously glances at the angel. The form is far from his usual rigid posture and cocky tilt of the chin, but the way Castiel humbles himself by the question gets Dean cherishing it. He chooses his words carefully.

“You’re an angel.”

“An angel who conspired with demons?” the constipated look in his face is telling of his doubt now.

“You’re setting too much standard on your kind, buddy. You know I think angels are dicks.”

Castiel sighs. Dean knows he’s blowing it.

“No, I meant— _you’re not perfect,_ okay? So, you made a few alliances with demons for a goal… I mean, hey… been there, but if I said _‘I’m human working with a demon_ , will you smite me?"

Castiel ogles at him and for a full minute, Dean thinks the answer is yes. He frowns at Castiel and shakes his head.

“Cas, you made me torture, a hell torturer without batting an eyelid, I know from the start angels are actual dicks, but that doesn’t absolve me, I’m not clean either. So, what makes angels so… perfect? I stayed in hell, _I worked for hell—I’m worse than any demon—"_

“You’re not a demon, Dean,”

Dean points the tip of his bottle at the angel. It's like they weren't kissing a moment ago. They are so married.

“Ah, they said I’m worse.” He puts the bottle down, “From Righteous man to Knight of hell—"

“Dean.”

“All I’m saying is, if you screwed with me, you can probably screw Crowley. That’ll make a badass, badass of angels.”

Castiel breaks into a small smile. Dean realizes it’s what he really wants from this. He hadn’t seen the angel smile since… well…

“You just gotta remind yourself your goal is pure from the beginning. You… just wanted to protect me, I mean not me just me, even Sam and Bobby.” Dean stops, frowning at himself, realizing he never really heard Castiel out that night. He just went and clashed heads with the angel. So maybe if he wants Castiel to change his views now, maybe he should do the same. He should have listened to Castiel too.

He glances back at his friend with an honest look.

“So, did we make a breakthrough? Because honestly Cas, I’m not really a very good Doctor Phil?”

Castiel burrows his eyebrows. “I don’t understand,”

“I mean you… do you still want to pursue this… souls from Purgatory thing?”

Castiel finally closes his eyes, hands falling to his sides.

“Not if it means killing you.”

Dean slowly drawls out a sigh. A part of him wants to reach Castiel, another part of him wants to do more than just that. Torn between, he pushes from the counter and slowly walks to Bobby’s very dusty couch, the same couch he used as a bed in his own time. He stares at the ragged material, dusted a few parts before slumping down, dropping his heavy body backward and leaning his head to the cushion feeling all the energy has been drained from his body.

For some reason he felt like crying too. They were able to stop the apocalypse. They are going to stop Raphael too. Castiel did not have to turn to some dark bastard who’ll lay waste to those Dean holds dear. He heaves a heavy sigh, chest sucking air in and out. He feels so tired and really can fall asleep right there.

Something at the back of his mind tells him they’re on the clock.

“Dean?”

Dean half opens his eyelids and there’s Castiel standing close to his knees, watching him with a tilt of the head. For a long second Dean just watches him too. His limbs, heavy as it is, wants to make room for the angel and just pull him down the couch. The thought was enough to send electricity to his body so he sits straight. He’s never been straight since the day he was born.

“Wanna sit down?”

He sees the impact it has on the angel whose eyes once again get glued to him like he just spoke in Enochian.

“Y-you want me to sit with you?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Castiel looked like he swallowed a frog.

Dean narrows his eyes at the angel. “Cas, sit or not, anything’s fine, but it’s awkward that you stand there while we talk.”

“You want to talk more?”

“I know, miracle, right? So, if you like you can sit here with me.”

Dean pats his side. Castiel blinks several times, but after a few seconds of battling his inner self, the angel heeds and slowly and cautiously takes the space—almost hugs the space that Dean is in. Dean felt Castiel’s ass brush his left hand, sitting so close a hair difference is not even the proper expression. But the alarm in Dean’s head gets off with the angel so close.

Cas is so warm and he smells fucking good. Like the leaves under the sun. Dean swallows.

“C-Cas… space?”

Castiel sits rigidly for a moment, before easing down the other end of the chair. Dean stares at the angel for a long period thinking why the angel’s plush lips are so near and reachable, but still can’t be for him to take. Him and his fantasies. Is that even okay? Is he corrupting Cas thinking of him this way? His boner disagrees.

“You can sit closer if you like?”

“No, I will stay here,” Cas says.

“Okay,” Dean licks his lips, “So wanna talk about it?”

“About what?”

“About knowing at some point, you got a darker self who probably really wants me dead.”

“That’s not my will, it’s never going to be.”

Dean nods, “Not ever? I mean even I know at some point I’ve become so annoying even Sam wants me dead.”

“He was soulless then.”

“Thanks for saving him, by the way…” Dean cuts off abruptly, rendering silence from the angel, “I… even if it’s not your intention to leave his soul behind, you still tried to help him for me… I know you did it for me too, Cas… and that’s… I think that’s freaking awesome.” He grins at the angel.

“I tried,” Castiel replies quietly, “It’s my own

“But how’d you do it? Save Sam?”

“I just… believed I could and I did.”

“So, it’s like some old magic, old mythical stories where you start believin, even grown men can fly?” at Castiel’s deadpan, Dean rolls his eyes, “You know, Peter Pan?”

“I don’t understand that reference,”

Dean chuckles and eases down the couch again feeling more like himself. He thinks of their current situation, about the last time he and Cas spoke before the horror that Bobby saw in the laboratory with Castiel turning into a monster. He can’t help sending a silent thank you to wherever. Only to find Castiel shooting him a knowing look and a small smile.

“You prayed. Just now.”

Dean hums and they both fall in comforting silence. Then Dean opens his eyes.

“Cas? You said two more… does that mean we can have a side trip?”

Castiel stares at him curiously. “What do you have in mind, Dean?”

The blue eyes are like lamplight of the moon itself. Dean sighs. He doesn’t want to make it difficult for Cas, but he knows he wants to see him… the other Cas.

“We never catch a break, do we?”

“No.”

The hunter sits up and grimaces because Castiel won’t look at him.

“Cas, here me out here okay?”

“We don’t need to see him, Dean, he’s dangerous.”

“I know, look, all I’m saying is we go drop by to wherever he was before Bobby found him, okay?”

“It’s dangerous,”

“Danger has not stopped us before, Cas”

Castiel glares. “You don’t understand, someone like me out there without you and with that awful lot of power is… dangerous. I would not bring you to him, it’s not safe, especially for you. There’s no point seeing him now that I am not going to go through Crowley’s plan.”

Dean stays silent for a moment.

“I thought you want to know what you are, Cas?”

Castiel carefully looks at him. Dean takes the attention and raises both arms up in mock-surrender.

“Look, Cas… let’s say we go back, let’s say we both think you’re not going to do it—”

“I’m not going to kill you,”

“You are not, but we don’t know the extent of what happened to your old self, so to really put an end so you don’t go on thinking of this play again, let’s go see. I want to know what happened to you that made you kill me, what we avoided, what you need to avoid, Cas…”

“Why are you insistent on this, Dean?” Castiel growls.

“I want to see you.”

“That wasn’t me. Why would you insist on seeing that side?”

“You still don’t know?” Dean asks quietly.

Castiel lowers his head and Dean suppresses the urge to embrace the angel close, but he hears the impatience beat of wings around. There’s something strange in the way Castiel casts him a look before Dean feels the wings spread around him as Castiel’s hand clasps his own and zaps them to the next timeline for the last time.

[ ](https://lootbox.tumblr.com/post/186782659744/dividers-from-my-old-photobucket-profile)

Dean washes his face on the old sink attached to a broken wooden wall letting it rinse off any part of his brain that got dislodge after the time jump. He cools his head a little after the third zap in less than twenty-four hours.

“2011,” Castiel says beside him, eyes scanning the junkyard. Dean pulls from the sink and lets the angel mojo his whole body dry. There’s a tingling sensation left when the angel is done with him.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Castiel mutters, sounding uncomfortable.

“Why?”

“Dean, I can still feel his full power… my full power… it’s dangerous. It’s possible he already knows we’re here.

Dean nods. “You can always zap us back if you think it’s gone dangerous.”

They walk along the junkyard that once belonged looked like one of Bobby’s joint, except it’s a warehouse of actually destroyed cars. When Dean says destroyed, he doesn’t mean the usual auto parts missing or the rustiness nor the unrepairable ones. He speaks of the destruction like light bolt had rained upon the vicinity like something big stomped and flattened and kicked the cars from where they are parked the way the automobiles are toppled on the sides to be forgotten.

“You think you did this?” Dean asks, picking up a plate number and throwing it away. It fell sadly with a thump on a rusty blue Chevrolet.

“I am capable.” Castiel answers.

“But this is like what…according to Bobby’s recount, five days tops since you turned from God to Leviathan?”

Castiel doesn’t answer. The angel is now looking at the abandoned warehouse in the middle of everything with a decided glare. Instantly, Dean knows that their target can be found there. They silently glance at each other with their minds in sync.

They entered an abandoned warehouse. The weather is humid and the sun glaring.

Dean doesn’t know what to expect. He imagines this rogue angel that Bobby described, the angel who lost his humanity—the angel who killed him, living in here—how? The way he trusts Cas there can’t understand any logic or reason that dying by his hand seems impossible now.

He travels his eyes inside the vicinity and only saw piles of old rusty cars. The warehouse is barely standing with the sun streaming from apertures of broken windows and—Dean gets hit by a sudden feeling that someone is watching him. It sent a chill in his spine and his hunter instincts made him quickly raise his gun. Castiel seems to feel it too because he stopped in front of Dean, poised in battle mode.

Cold sweat runs from the side of his forehead and then his eyes finally find _him_.

Dean sees him there sitting at top of all the smashed and flattened cars—on top of which is the impala where he sits majestically with wings closed behind him. He reeks of terrifying aura reverberating through the entire warehouse where the shadow of his wings reaches all corners. But what strikes Dean the most is his _attire._

He wears a black trench coat this time and when he looks up, his eyes immediately fall on Dean. His eyes are still as blue as any sky but emit the power of one creature that had resided in the dark for far too long, it’s become him.

The blue eyes that flicker at Dean.

The reaction is instantaneous. 

Black trench coat Castiel’s wings expand and Dean has no idea why he can see it—only that in one beat, dark Castiel— _Godstiel—_ flies directly at him with hands ready to grab but Castiel quickly draws his blade and there’s a clash. Dean yells in surprise but his tan trench coat Castiel keeps a firm hold on his shoulder.

“Dean! Run!” Castiel bellows as he spreads his wings and tackles the Black trenchcoated Castiel in the air. Dean is left staring at the same being battling above with intent to finish the other. All because of him.

Flash of the silver blades to black. Dean steps backward as it becomes apparent why the Black trench coat— _this Godstiel_ —is trying to push Castiel back— trying to get past him, eyeing one thing.

Dean sees Godstiel eyes are on him the whole time. Like he doesn’t even see Castiel anymore. Dean wavers at the intensity. Once or twice he nearly kills Castiel with a fatal blow, but Dean notices him reacting every time Dean moves. It becomes clear to Dean—and to Castiel from the very beginning—Godstiel wants Dean.

[ ](https://sketching-fox.tumblr.com/post/626805058485551104/hi-everyone-here-are-my-artworks-done-for-the?fbclid=IwAR2ejGXEzJu_X5shrSWPxy4joiaLT2q_Z8A2PCd_llpBxU1Mem-YH2466lE)

The power difference also becomes apparent as his Castiel gets hurls on the wall, shaking the entire vicinity. And then there’s the black trenchcoated Castiel before him. Dean steps back feeling his hair stands on ends because—what power! Castiel’s usually pink lips and rosy cheek are pale in comparison and his eyes though still blue, holds menace with something dark billowing in its core and for the first time, Dean becomes afraid.

His Castiel is picking himself up from the wreckage.

“C-Cas—”

Godstiel is a step away from him, the lingering look he gives Dean is just plain intimidation.

_“Dean.”_

Dean shivers at the sound.

His voice sounds like it hasn’t been used for many years. The way his eyes don’t leave him makes Dean want to hide away from its pure wanting and intent to harm. He doesn’t want to know how these same eyes tortured the 'him' in this timeline, but he has ideas, especially when Castiel’s dark eyes fall on his lips.

_Shit._

Castiel comes out of nowhere and embraces Dean before flying away towards the door. Dean holds tight on his chest wishing with all his might that they make it alive.

They don’t. Castiel gets tugged backward like his wings have been tied. The angel cries in surprise and Dean shouts his name as they both crash on top of old cars with arms protectively around Dean. The friction of the faulty wires and the not so empty gas tanks set things ablaze.

Pain hits Dean’s head but only because it collided with Castiel. His body is okay seeing as Castiel wrapped his wings around them to protect them from the collision.

“ _Cas_!”

Castiel writhes in pain and Dean instantly knows it’s not the crash landing. He glances up to see a few feet away from them is the untouchable black trenchcoated Castiel who is staring at his angel darkly.

“What are you doing! He is you!”

“D-Dean…” Castiel gasps, he crumples amidst the clutter, “Y-you got to run…he…he wants you!”

“Think I didn’t notice?!” Dean says frantically trying to see where Castiel is hurting. Cas' mouth is too bloody for comfort, he must’ve ruptured his lungs and broken a few ribs, he finds no physical wound, but Castiel coughs blood nonstop. There's a sound of step, Dean stares fiercely at dark Castiel again. Godstiel stands there high and mighty, face devoid of any expression but the way he stares at Dean gets his heart racing. This guy wants him, probably wants to rip him apart again, Dean wonders if Castiel secretly hates him that much.

Nothing else left to do, he cradles Castiel’s head on his chest protectively.

“Don't take another step, I swear…!” Dean growls, holding Castiel closer to his heart. Around them are the blazing junk cars and all Dean can think is protecting Cas. _His Cas_.

“Dean,” Godstiel says, “I wanted to see you, I searched everywhere…”

“Why? You forgot you killed me, dick?”

Godstiel stops on his tracks. Dean turns to his Castiel whose face is cold and sweating—shit, shit, they won’t be able to come back home this way—he got to protect Castiel.

“Cas,” Dean says urgently, glancing up then back at his angel, “Cas—hey… you gotta heal yourself and find me, you got that?”

Castiel opens his eyes and there’s nothing there but shock. He easily understands Dean's plan with just one deep look in his eyes. The angel clasps the back of his hand holding the trench coat.

“No, Dean!” Castiel pleads, corner of mouth bleeding profusely, “You’re not going with him!”

Heart hammering against his chest, Dean nods, his mind thinking fast. Castiel is badly beaten and if this goes on, neither of them would be able to go back. Dean won't let that, he can't let Castiel die here.

On the other hand, Godstiel is coming for him, step by step, eyes relentless and looming at Dean. Dean can’t imagine what days with him would be like and he’s not too eager to imagine. He grabs Castiel by the lapel and leans closer to his angel.

“Stop being stubborn and just focus on getting better… and get me… I’ll… I’ll pray to you…wherever he takes me, I know you'll find me.”

Dread fills the blue eyes.

“ _NO_!”

“He’ll kill us both if I don’t go with him, Cas! He’ll kill you!”

“Dean, there has to be another way!” Castiel grits his teeth and to Dean's surprise, Cas slides left hand at the back of Dean's neck to hold him still so their eyes are deep into each other. Dean can see anger flicker in those blues. "Dean… I can't lose you here, not to him!"

“Don’t be an idiot, I…” Dean looks up because Godstiel is a meter from him now. He turns back to Castiel shaking his head, “I’m sorry, Cas… but…"

 _I’ve always wanted to save you… this is my chance now_.

Dean didn't have to say it out loud. The way Castiel's hand tightens on his nape, Dean’s sure his angel heard him loud and clear.

"Don't do this to me, Dean... "

"It's going to be fine; I’m going to be fine, trust me." Dean touches Castiel's cheeks, Dean leans down and kisses the hurt angel. It sweet and chaste and with one that stays heavy on his lips even after he pulled. He gives Castiel one last lingering look, wiping away that blood that stains the angelic lips, and then Dean stands up to face Godstiel.

He stares this Godstiel straight in the eyes. Dean is scared of many things; he's never scared of facing someone much powerful. Not when he's got something to protect behind him.

"You can't kill him," Dean says quietly. Godstiel cocks his head, seemingly amused. Dean grinds his teeth. "Kill him now and you're killing your past too! He ceases to exist and you die too, you’re not that stupid, are you Cas?"

Godstiel just stands there, a powerhouse magnanimous and untouchable but still listens to Dean's every word. Nothing really changed except those eyes really want him. He can feel the intent all the way across him, suffocating him and when Dean tries to turn to Castiel, a snap of a finger and he finds himself standing a hair difference from Godstiel.

Dean stumbles back. He finds himself frozen on the spot.

“Dean—! Don’t touch him!” Castiel shouts behind Dean and Dean half-smiles because that’s exactly what he wants to tell this douchebag.

“You… you're not gonna hurt Cas, right?” Dean says a little apprehensively. He's got a closer look at Godstiel's eyes now and he's sure it's different than his Cas. This guy has lost it. The eyes that are fixated on him are not of his guardian angel but his undoing. Then again, this one has already killed him. Someone who has snapped and broken their profound bond. Dean thinks it's not going to be a good idea to be alone with someone who has lost so much in the name of power.

“I finally saw you again,” says the cold rumbling voice that gets Dean wanting to step back. But Godstiel reaches fingers at the tip of Dean’s chin and pulls him.

“I missed you, Dean.”

Dean grits his teeth. His heart hammers in his chest at what possible end he’ll have to endure with a manic angel who acts like he found his favorite toy and is now planning to chew on it again.

“No, you didn’t.”

The blue eyes glints dangerously, then Castiel closes their distance with a kiss.

Dean is much too shocked to reach but then he hears a flap of wings beating and they’re gone away—far away and when he opens his eyes next, it’s to find himself in what looked like an underground catacomb with torches on the sides and stone table in the middle. Dean turns behind him and there is Godstiel watching him. Dean swallows hard. He feels small, naked.

_Now what?_

“You’ve come back to me,” Castiel says a little too possessively. Dean internally struggles but his body is spell-bound and he can't even throw a punch or two. He doesn't care if he breaks a knuckle or two, this guy is treating him like a puppet and it's beginning to get on his nerves.

“I’m not your Dean,” he breathes out, he sees a dark flicker behind the dark blues, “Look—I came to fix things—”

“I know you did. You always did reach for things out of you humans' league." Castiel finishes for him with a fixated look on Dean's lips, “You are my Dean before I took on Purgatory, that is the 'me' before I lost everything.” he nods at the bleeding angel watching them with angry eyes.

"Let him go," Castiel hisses but like mockery, Godstiel snakes left arm around Dean's waist and pulls him, finally ending the distance with his lips over Dean's ear

"You're mine."

Dean blinks. The last thing he hears is another beating of wings and Castiel's voice calling his name before everything turns blur and he clings hard on the body keeping him still as he is taken far away.

[ ](https://lootbox.tumblr.com/post/186782659744/dividers-from-my-old-photobucket-profile)

Dean hates the zapping tricks— it’s bad as getting disintegrated molecule by molecule. It feels like being squeezed in a cylindrical tunnel with all air out and pops at the other end without a form, feeling all stretched and alien to his own body, no wonder he has bowlegs. Disoriented isn’t even the word to describe it. It's painful and it sucks. He wants to complain, but his new pal oozing with darkness, this ‘Castiel’ of the future, seemed to have embraced some real angel darkness with his flashy dark coat and doesn’t seem to care much for his opinion, or the fact that he just beat up his past self to take Dean away. Feeling much braver than he thinks, he steps up to save Castiel from this Godstiel. He knows getting zapped is inevitable now so Dean sucks it up and closes his eyes. He hears the sharp beat of wings then feels solid ground disappear.

When earth touches his feet again, the first thing he did (aside from breathing) is to turn to Castiel— the good dorky one left bloody on the floor moments ago who's now gone. They are no longer in the burning junkyard. They are somewhere else quite private and familiar with red walls, gleaming stage, and a pole in the middle.

Stripper's club?

Dean sighs in relief. Cas, his real Cas is safe at least. But now he is alone with the other one, the future angel who took all the Leviathans in his body and gradually changed into something else proclaiming himself to be god. Dean meets the electrifying blue eyes as blue and godly as it can be, white and sparkling and menacing.

There's something he wants to hold on to, something slipping his hands. There's a rustle of wind and sounds of wings…

 _Wings_!

Dean opens his eyes and finds himself in a soft red couch he easily recognizes as one of his favorite strip clubs with pole and stage and drinks and everything he needs. Except he also quickly registers how wrong it is to find himself there when the last he remembers is being taken away by an angel wearing a dark trench coat.

As if summoned by the devil himself, there he finds black trench coat Castiel right across him, leaning on the stage with blue eyes dark and intent on him.

Dean gets his bearing as he straightens on the chair, eyes holding Godstiel's gaze. He knew he should be a lot more scared, but it's not this that grip him that moment. It's only pure curiosity.

"Nice color," he begins, trying to make light of things. Godstiel barely even bats an eyelid, "You make your own trench coat line now?"

Godstiel stares down his trench coat and holds them the same way he did man years ago in that barn when they first met.

"This happened when the Leviathans left my body and scattered around the world," he says quietly.

Dean nods. "And… are they now…? all out of you? You're just… An angel with a black ass trench coat?"

"More or less. I am still holding some powerful Leviathans captive inside me. I am under control. I am still omnipotent, your weak Castiel can't hope to win against me."

"See here, Cas, you know what's inside you is all kinds of bad," Dean says feelingly, expression in pain, "If you think you're under control then why do you think you killed the other me? Because the Castiel I know is never going to hurt me!"

"Your Castiel is far weaker."

"Protecting someone is never a weakness! Destroying things out of pure menace is! Because you know inside you, you're corrupted!"

"I don't understand. I am an angel. I am not corrupted."

Dean bites his lips. He doesn't know how to reach Castiel like this, yet he knows somewhere deep down, there is his baby in a trench coat buried there somewhere and he's going to grip him tight out of that Perdition.

"The real Cas will find me, I trust him," Dean says sincerely and it earned him a curious tilt of the head. 

"You still trust that angel after he betrayed you?"

"That angel is _you_ ," Dean retorts with hard expression.

"That weakling who can't even protect his most important person is not me. I am different. I can take care of you now."

"You mean like crush me again with your own hands?"

Intense silence falls between them. Dean glares at Godstiel and shakes his head. He remembers this is that Castiel who failed to listen to him. That Castiel he didn't save.

"Where are we?"

"This is your heaven."

Dean scans the empty strip club and raises both eyebrows.

"What are we doing here? Are you now going to indulge me and my wet dreams?"

Godstiel's blue eyes gleam. "I can take you anywhere you want. As long as you stay with me."

"And if I don't?"

Godstiel's face darkens. "You are mistaken if you think I am ever letting you go again."

Dean feels a prickle of fear as his hair stands up on ends. He stands up tall and cocks his own head challengingly to the angel and begins to walk around the room to distract himself. To keep his body from shaking because that's how this… this dark Cas made him feel just now. Helpless and vulnerable.

"So, uh... " Dean licks his dried lips, “What have you achieved after all this time?" he half glances back at Castiel as he heads to the pool bar to keep the table between them. The more space there is between them the better. "I mean we both know you ended up doing some shit with irreparable consequences… so, what exactly are you planning with me? Keep me here in this little dream? Uh… relish the dead me's memory to keep the slate of your conscience clear?"

Godstiel keeps staring at him. The pool table is not between them and Dean's never felt so much exposed still. Exactly how is he going to protect himself against a powerful creature who's obsessed with him? He wonders what this Castiel did to his other self… Bobby said he found him mangled. Probably pissed Godstiel and knowing himself, it’s probably not far away from the truth. He wonders if history will repeat itself.

That gets Dean frowning at the unresponsive angel in his trench coat.

"You know I won't stop trying to escape you…you know me… you can never stop me, Cas."

"You tried."

Dean feels even more hollow

"Listen to yourself, you’re not you, you know? You know this whole thing is a bad idea!"

“I know.” Castiel says, “I know because I lost you. So, I will protect you now even to those who have power over your life. No one can take you from me, not god, not heaven, not Death. You are mine, Dean."

Dean stares. Then his whole face closes to anger.

“You're sick, you know that? You killed me!”

Castiel glowers. Without warning, he disappears and shows up beside Dean. He holds Dean's chin and captures his mouth against his before Dean can react. He knocks Dean on the pool table and presses hard on him with his hand close around Dean’s neck, fitting himself perfectly between Dean’s legs. He takes Dean's wrists and pins both on top of Dean's head, keeping him still from struggling. His eyes gleam darkly, menacingly.

"This vessel has been touched by my former self… but I will make you mine."

Dean shivers. He doesn't feel safe at all.

"Let me go, we’re not doing this, Cas!"

It only earns him with Godstiel leaning over his face, eyes lingering over his lips as his free hand still holds Dean around the chest.

“It was because you never listened to me that you died,” Castiel whispers, tilting his head so his mouth is by Dean’s ear, “everything I asked of you, you do the opposite… and I get tired too, Dean…. And I want you so much.”

"Cas, please…"

Dean moans when Castiel kisses him open-mouthed. He hates the way how his body quickly responded by arching his back. It doesn’t help that the fucker knows how to use his hips to press upon Dean’s too and all the words he lets out are garbles. He tries to wriggle away but being an angel, what more a god, all Dean can do is breathe on his nose as the assault on his lips continue.

He shivers again when he feels Castiel’s hands slide down to his belt. Dean panics but he cannot outdo the powerful hands holding him firmly. It’s too forceful, too hungry for his skin, too much in need of his touch. Castiel presses on him hard. Lips leave his mouth only to trace down his neck, grazing with his teeth until he reaches Dean’s collar—and to his horror—his clothes slowly get peeled away—

“N-no!” Dean growls but it’s futile.

Castiel viciously catches his bottom lips and nibbles and sucks until Dean's lips are wet and swollen. His clothes grit forgotten on the floor while Godstiel pins him down, press on him, and kiss him wild like it's the only thing he knows how to do. He humps on him, letting Dean feel his energy seeping to his skin. No space in between, just like how Castiel wants it. The scream of wanting to possess is felt the way

Dean half chokes, half moans when their cocks grind together and the feel of the angel’s skin on his own hot and tempting. A slight brush on his cock gets him groaning, then lips are kissing him again and Dean doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore. His body is betraying him and all he can think about is how this is Castiel, his broken Castiel whom he needs to save from his own self-made Perdition.

And he still loves him.

So, it’s no surprise that when Castiel lets go of his hands, Dean wraps his arms around his neck and kisses the tears away from the dark angel’s cheeks. Dean closes his eyes and sighs. Why of all things and time, why does he think of Castiel more precious now more than ever? Is it because Castiel has gone to lengths in order to save the Winchesters only for it to backfire?

Is it because he feels pity for the angel who saved him from Perdition and in the end, loses the ability to identify right and wrong anymore? All because he got ‘tainted’ by Dean’s curse?

Was this his fault? The angel losing his way? The angel suffering? That now Castiel is reduced to nothing more than a murderer of his kind and the world?

Dean grits his teeth and lets out a small sob.

So maybe he deserved dying… maybe Castiel gave him an easy death after all. With the things the angel went through, maybe it’s all Dean’s fault for escaping and leaving him like that. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if Castiel didn’t save him from hell after all?

Guilt built up in his chest and before Dean knows it, he’s clutching the black trench coat tightly and pulling Castiel close.

“M’sorry Cas… This isn’t… it isn’t on you…” he grips his hold tight on the trench coat, it’s almost numbing, “T-this is all because of me… I’m sorry… Cas…” Dean whispers, eyes welling as Castiel freezes, blue eyes wide, “I forgive you, okay?”

God Castiel gives him a death glare but Dean’s sure his face crumples before the angel gets all brutal with his hands. He rakes his strong singers on Dean’s sides, leaving long angry red marks on his torso, his ribs down to his hips. The sensation leveled up as the angel presses him hard on the wall and locks both his wrist with one tug of the angel’s powerful hand. Slipping between Dean’s thighs, he kisses him powerfully, sucking on his lips to a bruising point while moving their bodies in a rhythmic cycle.

Dean cries out when the blunt head of Castiel’s throbbing cock slides to the crack of his ass. tries to thrust hard agitatedly, but Dean is much too tight and he doesn’t do anything to help ease the pain. Shame and embarrassment fill him, but nothing to the disappointment and hurt he feels for his friend. He lets Cas do what he will. The head of the angel’s blunt cock presses on his crack again, splitting his him. Dean tightens his grip on the angel’s neck with gritted teeth, trying not to shout in pain. He tells himself this is Cas.

This is still Cas. 

The angel he’s had a crush on since eon. Castiel would probably tell him that’s impossible but here he is and part of not leaving Castiel this time is to take him. Dean gasps when Castiel’s cock pops but way too big—but he isn’t open yet and he whimpers. Castiel grabs his hair and pulls it backward, exposing Dean’s neck to his mouth. Warm tongue lavishes the skin, nibbles on his sensitive pulse area where Castiel leaves his mark. Teeth graze angrily on his skin, ripping through and Dean can only cling on the rough handle as the aggressive angel thrusts again but it slips out of sheer size, and all Dean makes himself believe is this is Cas.

And he deserves this. He’s sure he screamed that in his head.

_“You don’t.”_

Dean's eyes shoot open exactly as the wall blasted to smithereens and there’s a bloody Castiel marching in, face gaunt and weary but his eyes can implode a universe out of anger. Blue eyes flicker over to him, Dean leg-locked to the future Castiel in a black trench coat with both hands pinned up the wall. He knows it must look dirty and he doesn’t know what else to feel except pure shame— Cas’ eyes lock with him—Dean wants to scream.

Castiel doesn’t need to speak, his lashing anger is evident and Dean fears for him when his friend charges like a bull with red in his eyes—Castiel— _the Godstiel easily meets him halfway—_ a flick of his wrist and his black clothes are back on and Dean falls on the floor with a loud thud and groan.

Ignoring his pain, he scrawls to safety, dragging his clothes with him, his instincts to survive to kick in. He erases in his head the fact that Cas— _his Cas saw him_ like that. His face heats up. He fucked up. Letting his angel see him all wrapped and entangled with… _him._ Dean pulls on his buttons with back pressed under the leg of the pool table. He tries to take a peek from the edge of the table only to see splinters of wood exploding around and he ducks again with eyes tightly closed. Instinct tells him to get between the Castiels again would mean his ultimate death. _Again._

From what it looks like, Castiel is fighting back too— _how?_ Hours ago he’s sure Cas was a goner—to think Castiel would immediately come after him but then, that’s just Cas—the Castiel in his favorite tan trench coat and smashes straight to the pole stage, destroying the entire floor. Dean hisses, glances once at God Castiel hovering in the air, black wings majestic—how he can see all that beats Dean still—it must be something about the Leviathans. He crawls out of his hiding spot—

There’s a blinding blast from the air—the next thing he knows, arms wrapped around him and flying him off the crumbling building. A flash of Castiels clashing- the surge of their grace- sharp whip of winds as wings beat the air-

[ ](https://sketching-fox.tumblr.com/post/626805058485551104/hi-everyone-here-are-my-artworks-done-for-the?fbclid=IwAR2ejGXEzJu_X5shrSWPxy4joiaLT2q_Z8A2PCd_llpBxU1Mem-YH2466lE)

More explosions. More blast in the wind as Dean ducks for cover, yelling when another burst of energy nearly toppled his hiding spot. Instinct told him to turn but Dean knows that familiar touch—the grip on his waist, the strong support oh his back—the _smell of the sun—_

“Cas!” Dean shouts when the dream breaks apart and the angel zaps him somewhere quiet and cold. He feels his butt hit the hard floor. Looking up, he locks eyes with the angel who shakes his shoulder.

“Dean!” Castiel he breathes, running his hand on Dean’s arm, his shoulder where Dean’s poor clothes hang pathetically. It hits Dean what he must look in the angel’s eyes

Dean’s lip trembles and he looks down his lap where his jeans are partly up his thighs. Humiliation sinks in and he begins to tug it up, feeling his nose itch and his eyes to sting. Darn good of the angel of the lord to get off him and _not_ make him decent in the middle of battle. But it’s hardly the time to deal with his guilty heart.

“You shouldn’t be here…” Dean scrambles to pull the flannel on, leaving it open while he pulls on his jeans. Someone should cook on his face. He can feel the flame burn him from inside out. Castiel’s grip on his shoulder doesn’t disappear.

“Dean…”

“You were hurt… you should’ve left me alone…” why is his voice shaking now? Is it rage?

The angel’s grip in his shoulder tightens and fingers hook his chin.

“Dean, look at me,”

Dean doesn’t want to until Cas cups his cheeks to steady his gaze. Dean instantly melts at the gesture, at the blue eyes gazing at him deep and filled with concern. He tries to pull away again but

“Dean, I can’t leave you here… I’d die first before I leave you…”

“But you saw me…”

“All I saw is myself hurting you… and I hate myself for it…” Warm thumbs rub his jaw, leaving a soothing feeling, Dean finds himself wanting more. He finally has the strength to mee the blue eyes with right hand unconsciously reaching for the angel’s wrist.

“Cas…I didn’t…I tried to really make him see reason.” he says like it’s not enough, both hands now clasping Castiel’s wrists tight, “He’s so broken… I broke him, Cas… I broke you—”

“No, no, Dean, that’s not true! You made me whole—Dean!” Castiel pulls his face until their foreheads touch, their breathing falling into a rhythm. Dean slides his hands to Castiel’s shoulder blades where he digs his fingers on his trench coat. Castiel whispers something to his head and finally kisses his temple, washing his pain away until Dean pushes the angel back with an incredulous expression on his face.

“What are you doing! Don’t heal me yet—he will find us and you need your grace!”

“It’s okay, I asked for backup.”

“Back up? What back up? And where the hell are, we?” it’s the first time he travels his eyes around and sees they are in an old musty lab with tile corners as dark as the spots of a demon’s eyes. Dust runs in the air, it’s an old laboratory with broken pieces of a jar on the floor and there on the wall a sigil of some kind. Dean’s eyes widen as Castiel helps him up to his feet.

“Where are we?”

“It’s an old reservoir lab, Bobby gave me the location.”

“What?”

“When he took you, I immediately went to him and asked for help—he told me this is the only place where he thinks we can stop him.”

Dean walks around, touches the metal table where accumulated dust is as thick as his hair. He glances back at the angel who seems to be a little distracted before pointing at the wall.

“What’s that?”

“It’s the door to Purgatory.”

Dean blinks. “What? Wait—is this that lab where you—the other you took all those Leviathans? The one where you exploded in the dam?”

“Yes,” Castiel stares at the marking on the wall too, “From what Bobby said, the 'me' here succeeded in killing Raphael, but at a cost of me turning becoming one of them... You implored me to return the monsters int their land and only listened after a long while. That’s when I agreed because my vessel could not handle it and they clung on to me…. Before I disappeared in the water, you all thought I was gone, but then I returned in full power and… I did the most abominable thing possible.”

Their eyes meet and Dean nods quietly.

“So what’s our play here? How’d you get help?”

“It’s the angels, heaven is fighting back.” Castiel’s voice grew strong, the change in the level of his deep voice bringing a tone of gravity in their situation.

“Heaven’s helping you? After Godstiel?”

“He’s not a god,” Castiel says mercilessly, “He’s just a powerful vessel that ate god’s pets. I will never let him happen once we go back to the past. I think heaven can help me regain my strength faster but until such time, I need to make sure he won’t lay his hand on you again.

“But what is heaven doing?”

“Then angels fear him. He annihilated half our species and when they saw me they wanted me dead. But they quickly realized we were the ones tampering with time and I told them I want this not to happen. They agreed to help me.”

“Yeah, how?”

“They collected two hands of god.”

“Hands of what?”

“Objects touched by God himself, those that hold a remnant of his powers if not used. That’s what they are using now against this darker me… they collected the Akkadian tablet, and the sarcophagus of Jonah… you saw him get immobilize. Even disintegrate him.”

Dean’s jaw drops slightly. He can imagine the angels of the lord fighting the overpowered Castiel, but thinking how Cas is all alone there, battling forces of heaven he once served, he finds a piece of him wanting to snatch him in his arms and protect him.

“You can’t save the 'me' here, Dean,” says Castiel quietly as if he can read Dean’s thoughts. “You can’t… not after what he did to the past you and the present you. He will end now.”

Dean wipes his eyes and licks his dried lips. “Fine. So then what are we doing here?” Dean’s expression turns shrewd, he detects hesitation in Castiel’s eyes, “Cas, what are you not telling me?”

“I’m planning to trap him in Purgatory if they fail. He after all has the souls of Purgatory equivalent to that of Heaven. Except they are monsters.”

“He still has them…” Dean nods, “Why is he still holding on to those monsters?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Dean nods and they fall silent. He doesn’t feel like rejoicing even if it felt like they have already won. He doesn’t even know how powerful the ‘Hands of Gods’ were supposed to be, but if angels relay on it then why not? Also, there’s a powerful tug in his chest that has nothing to do with the current revenge of heaven against someone that tried to bring them down the ground. It seems heaven was only looking for this opportunity when Godstiel is distracted.

Castiel walks to him and sits by his side to the dusty metal table.

“Are you okay, Dean?”

Dean avoids his eyes and nods. “Yeah…”

“Dean, you can talk to me about it…”

Dean hesitated at first, “Cas, what you saw back there…”

“It was unpleasant.”

Dean sucks in air and drops his eyes. Of course, it was not pleasant to the angel’s eyes. Of course, it was disgusting. What does Cas think of him now? Well, it’s not the first time he disappointed someone. Let them see the real dirt that he is.

“I didn’t want him to touch you.”

Dean snaps his head up and sees Castiel staring at him dead in the eyes. Anger still strikes fresh in his eyes, and he is more than grumpy and dissatisfied combined. He avoids looking at Dean this time. Dean doesn’t reach for him.

“I let him.” He whispers, bowing low, “You know… touch me.”

Castiel turns, and he is over Dean’s space in one step. Dean sits straight, back of his knees pressing hard on the table’s edges. Castiel’s intensity fills him and for a long awkward moment, all he could do is stare him in the eyes.

“Cas?”

Except his angel’s eyes fall on his lips again. Dean’s lips dry. I asked one thing right now, he’d want to kiss Cas—want to pull those coat lapels and ravish his angel’s lips. It’s not to erase or forget what’s been done in the past—all and all he will always want Cas.

Cas should know that too. They both move their heads in synchrony, eyes meeting, and drawing each other close. Dean begins to melt, his heart races and it’s nothing in comparison to what he felt with Godstiel… this is his Cas… his past, his present… maybe his future.

He swallows hard. If only Cas knows how easy it would be for Dean to grabs him for a sweet kiss, but he’s not going to do that no matter how much his body protests. Except Castiel seems to read something in his face and the next thing, hands wrapped around Dean’s cheeks, Castiel breathes down his mouth whispering—

_“You’re mine.”_

The full mouth kiss gets Dean exhaling loud. He frantically reaches for Castiel. Kisses back hot and wanting. It’s all gets cut short when large black wings appeared—

Castiel immediately blocks Dean from view once again with Dean clasping his angel’s shoulder tight, not wanting him to do the first move. His heart races. Godstiel is staring at him again, his vessel seemed untouched nor harmed. Dean’s blood ran cold.

“Cas…” Dean says urgently.

“He’s not taking you again,” Castiel flat out says.

“Cas—the hand of god didn’t even touch him! He’s invincible!”

They’re both uncertain of what’s going to happen next, one thing for sure, Dean isn’t going to lose his Cas here. If he needs to sacrifice himself, throw himself in the fire, throw himself in Purgatory—he’ll do it—

“Give me Dean,” Godstiel says, commanding.

“I’ll kill you if you come any closer…” Castiel growls, keeping Dean behind him.

“Cas…”

Dean gasps when Castiel suddenly flies straight to Godstie and gets knocked off his feet and with a flash of wings, Godstiel has him strangled with the other bare hand and ready to strike—to grab the vessel’s heart and finally put him out of his misery.

“Don’t! _Please! I need him!”_

Godstiel freezes and glances up at Dean. There’s a brief pause where Dean just opened himself bare for the raging angel, tears welling from his eyes as he stares from one Cas to the other.

“I need him.” He repeats.

Godstiel doesn’t move. Castiel took the opportunity and with flashing lights—stabs Godstiel in the middle where black blood spurts on the ground.

“CAS!” he doesn’t know for whom he is shouting but he doesn’t move The two Castiel eye each other and there’s too much in their eyes that makes Dean step forward, heaving and worried.

Until Godstiel falls on the ground to his knees, blood leaking from every pore of his skin. Castiel tries to support him but like a puppet with his strings getting cut off the feet, Godstiel falls on the ground. Dean runs to him.

“Cas!”

Godstiel coughs a mouthful of blood, running to his chest down the ground as Dean kneels in front of him. Godstiel reaches to him but Castiel swats his hand. Dean holds his Castiel and shakes his head.

“It’s okay, Cas…He’s dying,”

And with that, his Castiel lets him cradle Godstiel whose blue eyes are only fixed to Dean.

“Perhaps it’s not the absence of god I truly seek… but your side, Dean, your voice of approval on mine… because believe it or not, you…have all of me.” He says roughly, voice gurgling the words out, Dean holds his hand tight.

“Don’t talk anymore, Cas, it’s gonna be alright.”

Godstiel gives him a snarky laugh.

“How ironic that the thing that kills me is handmade of my Father himself… mocking me…” black blood oozes from the corner of his lips. He pierces Dean with his eyes, “I want you to know… you… dying… was the moment I too died… Dean.”

Castiel and Dean stare at each other before Dean licks his lips and nods back at the dying angel.

“For what it’s worth… I… wished I didn’t cause your death… you... shouldn't care so much for someone worth so little. Not more than you."

"Stop it," Dean clings on the trenchcoat smeared in black blood. "It wasn't your fault... you were alone..."

"I caused my own isolation..." He flickers his eyes to his angel who is listening to his every word. "Don't be foolish...losing sight of what's important..." He coughs blood, head dropping to Dean's side. There’s something in him that wants to keep clinging to Dean.

“Don’t look away… I… I’m sorry, Dean… I am sorry.”

Dean holds in the trenchcoat. “Save your strength, come on, buddy we can help you.”

“You can’t.” both Castiel says in chorus, making Godstiel chuckle. “I got the end I deserve.”

Dean opens his mouth and stutters. He's losing Cas... he's losing...

“No, no this is not your end, Cas! You don’t deserve this! You deserved so much more!” Dean cries, holding Castiel’s right hand and pressing it to his cheeks.

“No, Dean, my sweet Dean…” Godstiel runs his bloody hands to Dean’s cheeks whose lips are trembling from trying to stop his tears, it’s impossible. “This is… what I deserved for hurting you… This is how I punished myself after hurting you… my charged who I loved with all my heart… who… received all my wrath upon wanting to achieve real freedom… because I mistook freedom for happiness… I… chose it instead of you, in the end, I hurt you.. that will be my greatest regret… Dean…”

Dean turns to his Cas helplessly. “What do we do?”

Castiel sees the wound shakes his head.

“He is fading…”

Godstiel stares at Cas and there’s a brief silent communication, then Black Castiel raises a bloody black finger and grabs Castiel. Dean reacts but a surge of power comes from both angels— their blue eyes make a shame of the skies—

Then Godstiel turns his eyes, all blazing blue on to Dean and the movement of his lips only forms one name—Dean wants to reach for him, his soul wants to embrace him, hold him close and tell him the very thing this Castiel wants to hear the most— but the angelic light is too much for him. The entire laboratory is filled with angelic light. When it’s all over, Castiel was at his weakest, but Dean got him when he falls. Cradling Dean protectively. 

After making sure the angel is alright, he glances up only to see Godstiel’s black trench coat is the only thing left. His vessel has disintegrated into smoke marking the ground with the last of his essence.

Dean bites his trembling lips. He lost Cas.

He holds his Castiel close and drops his face on his shoulder. 

Castiel holds on to his arms and they stayed like that for a few moments, thinking of the two souls separated by misfortune. Dean wants to know if Godstiel can find his way to Dean’s—his soul. He wishes they could. Castiel wraps him in his arms, healing almost all of Dean even though most of his physical pain is gone.

_No..._

No, Castiel heals his soul as they merge together and with a beat of his wings like the last song, they get both zapped in time. Leaving the black trenchcoat that never should have existed behind.

[ ](https://lootbox.tumblr.com/post/186782659744/dividers-from-my-old-photobucket-profile)

It’s the same kitchen in the same house, and there’s Cas in the same tan trench coat. Dean doesn’t say anything when he crosses the space between them and pulls the angel into a tight embrace.

Eyes filling with tears, he sobs on Castiel’s shoulder who doesn’t let go of him, holding him with palms clasped tightly around his back.

“Dean,” he says weakly.

“I’m sorry Cas, I’m so weak… I hurt you so bad… I…”

“No,” Castiel pulls him back, holding Dean still to steady him. “This… this isn’t your fault, I… I was the one who hurt you… Dean…”

Dean could barely hold Castiel’s eyes as he sinks to his knees. With angelic power, Castiel only carries him to the couch, settling him there and sitting beside him because Dean won’t let go of his wrist. He wants Castiel to stay. He needs to tell Cas what happened. He begins to say stuff, let it out of his mouth except he can’t get them out, won’t get them out. The words trip one after the other, and he gets frustrated he begins hating himself more. Until Castiel’s palms cup his cheeks and forces him to steady his eyes.

“Look at me.”

“Can’t… he…”

“I know…”

“I let him…”

“Dean…”

“I love him so much… I love you so much, Cas, I’d do anything to make you happy, make you forget… even convince you to leave me in hell if you doubted for one second that you did the right thing. I’m never the right option, Cas… and it all backfired and you were so dark and lonely and… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to tell you all those words…”

“You didn’t, I know you don’t mean them… Dean, please… stop this.”

Their temples touched, Castiel pressing on Dean so heavily who has no choice but to be the wall. “It’s not your fault, it’s done now, he’s gone and I’ll never be him… I will never be him; I will never blame you for what happened to me… You… you’re the only right thing that ever happened to me, Dean so please… stop hurting now… it hurts me too…”

“Cas….” Dean presses back, grabbing Castiel’s arm and holding on to him. And Castiel looks so soft and warm and on the verge of tears. Dean doesn’t even know how it happened, but Cas wraps him in his arms and embraces him closely.

“It’s alright, Dean… I got you now…”

“I’m sorry…” Dean feels more tired than ever.

“There is no need to apologize, come sit with me Dean… we need to rest…”

Dean lets the angel lead him to the familiar couch where they both sit together with their hands entwined. For a long moment they did not speak, they let silence prevail between them. Sniffs come from the hunter and he still hasn’t forgiven himself, only, Castiel sits closer and pulls him close. That’s where Dean finds himself lying on his angel’s lap, staring up the ceiling he can’t believe the same ceiling they left after they fought.

“This really our time?”

“Yes.” Castiel caresses his head.

Dean blinks back at the heavenly blue eyes.

“What do we do now, Cas?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… after everything…”

Castiel stays silent for a while and Dean gets the feeling the angel only did so to study his face. He doesn’t back away from the staring contest and even joins in the long gazing until Castiel’s finger touches his lips.

“I will never hurt you…”

Dean reaches for his hand. “What about Crowley?”

“I’ll kill him too… I will protect you at all costs. Even if it’s—”

“Don’t dare say with your life,” Dean grunts, kissing the back of Castiel’s hand and sighing, “I had enough seeing you die… that was… I didn’t like it.”

“I am just glad I didn’t have to live in a world where you don’t exist, Dean… I can’t imagine living like him… A real broken angel.”

"What about Raphael?"

Castiel falls silent. "I can show my brothers how it would end for heaven... The radio network will do it..."

"I say you need better campaign, but with Winchester beside you, I think you'll be unpopular."

"But I'd rather have you. I'll do something about Raphael... If I can get Crowley to open Purgatory, I can always trap him there. The monsters in Purgatory are especially hateful of beings of light."

"I will help you."

Castiel kisses his forehead. "Just stay safe, Dean."

Dean blinks slowly and he knows Castiel is watching over him when he falls asleep.

Hours later in the twilight, Dean feels peace and calm wrapped around Castiel’s strong arms. They both lay on the couch under the moonlight shining through the window where the sigils don’t do their purpose because Castiel is still there, cradling Dean in his arms.

What they have between them is comforting and peaceful. With Castiel holding him so close, he feels safe, too safe.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Dean. You have every right to get angry… I was… lost… and I took it out on you because you wouldn’t side with me, I felt you abandoned me… and then Crowley just…” there’s a heavy sigh from Cas, “No wonder he asked if I am still clear of what I am… and I can’t even say it in his face again…” ‘I’m an angel, you ass… for me to be swayed by a demon…maybe I am just a whore.”

Without hesitation, Dean reaches for Cas cheeks, careful not to startle as his shaking hands rubs on the growing stubble and sharp jaws. Dean studies Castiel’s lips, the fullness, the lines, the chapped lips, the solidity that it’s there, not flying away. Not going anywhere.

“You’re not a whore, nor anywhere near any demon, you’re still you Cas and it’s not too late… please tell me you won’t open Purgatory anymore,”

Eyes searching each other, the angel nods and Dean feels like a thousand pins were just moved from his heart and Castiel once again became a light in his life.

“I won’t Dean…I… I never want you to be hurt.”

Castiel’s hands touch his wrists and Dean is reminded of their proximity. That standing so close with their foreheads pressing is not what angels and humans do…or is it?

Castiel is watching the movement of his lips—why is that normal?

Dean leans in and the sensation is to die for. The moment his lips presses on Castiel—his brain loses all rational thought and he let his instincts reign. Kissing an angel is not easy with his heart doing summersaults and acrobats and Dean’s brain kept telling him he doesn’t deserve this, that there are so many reasons why it’s a bad idea to be kissing his angel because Dean is not worth it, Dean is just human, and someone like Castiel is out of his league.

So, when Castiel doesn’t respond in kind, when he remains standing like a statue, letting Dean take what he wants, Dean’s heart crumbles and he feels the rejection ten times as he softly pulls away, his lips already missing the touch of Castiel’s unmoving lips.

He didn’t get far. Dean finds himself unable to get away from Castiel’s viselike grip on his hips. Heart racing, Dean peers at the glinting blue in the darkness and sees what he was hoping to be a flicker of interest. A flicker for more.

“Where are you going?” Castiel growls softly enough to send Dean’s dick shooting up at the firmness of his hold.

Dean surges forward to kiss Castiel again and it's more than just need, it’s confirmation that Castiel wants him too as much as Dean wants him. The doubt that has grappled Dean from the beginning, of finding out Castiel has betrayed him, the thought of losing him, it all came back to him as he clings tightly to the angel.

He holds the angel desperately around the elbow, their lips locking because _fuck, Cas can kiss!_ The way the angel imitates the movement of his lips from the hard press, the easy-open up, the first touch of their tongue, the way Dean’s hands slides inside the trench coat to grip on his sides, the heat of Castiel’s mouth that tastes like nothing Dean ever had—it tastes like Cas. Smells like Cas under the sun in the middle of spring.

Dean’s arms go around Castiel’s back. He presses on Castiel with his rock-hard dick rubbing off his front were, to Dean’s delight, Castiel to is hard.

He pulls from Castiel hard, slides his hands on Castiel’s round ass, and heaves him up so Castiel is practically sitting by the counter.

“I want you, Cas,” Dean fits in sweetly between Castiel’s legs where he pulls Castiel closer so he can grind in him. “I’ve wanted you since you crashed in that barn, I wanted you…”

“I did not crash, I landed perfectly on my feet,” Cas replies shortly, blue eyes still not leaving Dean’s lips. “What are we doing, Dean?”

“We’re—”

Castiel catches his lips and it’s all Dean can do not to moan at the way. The angel teasingly suckles his bottom lips.

“—kissing—” Dean tries at each pull before lounging back at his sweet ecstasy that is beyond his expectation, “Is it… bad?”

“No… but I thought… you liked—"

“No, I want you, been thirsty for you…” he teeth the angel’s bottom lips and got they are so soft. Dean’s face flushes at the thought of kissing every part of the angel… his lips on Castiel’s dick he’s been having wet dreams about.

“Does this mean…you have forgiven me?”

Dean freezes and stares at the angel whose lips are wet and swollen which makes his dick twitch even more. Haven’t begun yet and Castiel is already debauched. Is this really the guy who will kill him in his future?

Dean swallows hard.

“Cas, I’m not doing this as compensation or punishment. I--- shit,” he tries pulling but Castiel won’t let him with arms around his neck.

Blue eyes gleam. “Stay where you are.”

Dean stays still. Castiel got it all wrong. After a moment of Dean not moving, the angel frowns.

“Why aren’t you kissing me anymore? Did I offend you? Dean?”

“This is not a punishment, Cas, I’m not some sadist who does that kind of game unless you… I mean,” Dean wanted to push Cas away but the body won’t listen. Certainly, his cock already bulging inside his pants that’s been throbbing since his shoulder brushed with the hot angel. He ends up sighing, “Let’s stop.”

“I don’t want to stop,” Castiel says.

“Cas, you don’t even think—”

Castiel sits straight with hard eyes on the man.

“I don’t. Why are you stopping now?”

“Because you don’t get it—”

“I get that you are mine.”

Dean gasps, dick losing it. “Shit,” he looks around him, finds the couch, and then stares back to his angel. Dean thinks Castiel can kill him any time after this after all. That is if Bobby doesn’t find them first fucking just after supper on the couch. He sees Castiel stare at the couch too with curiosity filling his eyes.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, if you want,”

“I want what you want.”

Dean pauses to think. This isn’t really good time. On the other hand, Bobby is hiding in his panic room because his initial reaction is to kill Castiel and he knows Bobby will take some time before he comes out from there again. Not to mention _they are alone._

And he is so hard.

“Couch,” Dean whispers. He barely finished the word when he finds himself there with Castiel standing before him.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean complains as a wave of dizziness hit him hard, “At least warn a guy, would you?”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel says without blinking and Dean knows he’s not sorry at all, “What would you want me to do? You already know I have no prior experience to this other than the pizzaman,”

“We can do the pizzaman for later,” Dean removes his clothes layer by layer, “Sit on my lap and just… touch me, I guess.”

“You guess?” Castiel did as he is told and throws his legs around Dean’s thighs after the hunter has shimmied his pants down his ankle and sits on his boxers. Castiel sits down on his cock—Dean groans at the hard press and has to cling to the angel for support.

“Cas…” his eyes immediately fall on Castiel’s lips. “You sure you want this?”

Castiel takes a long pause only searching Dean’s eyes for a few moments before he nods.

“I want to give you pleasure… I… I hurt you a lot— but this is not a punishment, I understand… truth be told, I also want you, Dean, I… always do.”

Enough said, Dean kisses Cas again, this time a little slower, more on the feeling of Castiel’s plush lips between his own. He peels Castiel’s trench coat down to elbow and feels Castiel also kiss him back. Wasn’t it just hours ago when he and Castiel were fighting like real enemies and now—just with kisses they were able to settle down and find comfort to each other?

And this is only the icing on the cake because Castiel says he is not going to follow through with the betrayal because he doesn’t want to hurt Dean. Dean catches Castiel’s bottom lips and tugs the angel’s warm mouth open.

Kissing is all fun until his hands find its way around the zipper of Castiel’s pants. The angel jolts when Dean presses his right palm on Cas’ own hardness. Dean smiles.

“Look who’s excited,”

Castiel leans to kiss him while Dean unzips the angel’s pants. He takes Castiel’s cock next and the sound the angel makes against his lips is heavenly. Through the kiss, he strokes Castiel’s already thick cock in his hands. His other hand gets busy unbuttoning the angel’s tax accountant suit.

Using his left hand, Dean takes his own cock out and rubs it with Castiel’s. Their bodies shiver at the contact, Castiel pulls from the kiss to stare wide-eyed at their cocks pressed together. The sensation is phenomenal. In one fist as Dean watches with tip of his tongue out as the redness of the tip of Castiel’s cock swells even more with precum. Breathing hard, he stares at Castiel and sees even the angel’s face is flushed and wanting. He feels Castiel instinctively wanting to thrust in his hand but looking uncertain if it’s right.

“You want to touch me, Cas?” Dean whispers.

Castiel looks up with his blue eyes flickering. He is breathing hard too at each stroke, chest heaving now with buttons lose, tie left on his shoulder.

“I want to touch you, Dean. I want to claim you.”

“I’m not stopping you,”

Castiel’s hands go straight for their dicks and it’s warm and deadly as he jerks their cock together. Dean drops his head at the back of the couch, the intensity of their pressed shaft blowing his brain. He thinks of what it means and why Castiel allowed it. Thinks of how things are now different once they return to their time.

_Fuck!_

Tension built up in his abdomen and Castiel doesn’t let up. Dean remembers Cas doesn’t know so he holds Castiel’s hands and his gaze. Teaching Cas how to slowly stroke with their eyes meeting each other is a bad idea because Dean is coming second after. His cum hit Castiel straight in the cheeks. Dean curses and wipes it away apologetically.

“Sorry, damn… got so excited with you watching me,”

“I always watch you do this,” Castiel says without blinking.

Dean smiles and pulls him in another long kiss. Castiel cleans them up in one flick of his fingers and later that night since Bobby did not reappear, Dean stays with his head on Castiel’s lap, thinking of what will happen afterward.

“Man… I’m glad you… chose me, Cas.”

“Every single time to my last breath, Dean…” Castiel draws Dean closer, warm and loving, their cheeks together, Dean liking his stubble. “I’ll choose you.”

Dean likes that.

“Let’s keep it at that so you don’t turn bad, huh?”

“I concur.”


End file.
